Supernatural One Shots
by okmijnuyuhbygv
Summary: Smut, fluff, Wincest, Destiel, and brotherly love.
1. Destiel - Smut

Destiel - One shot

"Dammit Cas!" Dean cried, hissing through his teeth as he jerked back from the angel who stood less than three feet away from him. The man in the trench coat didn't seem bothered by his outburst and stared at Dean, tilting his head slightly.

Dean watched the angel up and down before turning his head and clearing his throat. "Cas? Personal space, remember?"

Castiel blinked and removed his eyes from Dean's face, blushing slightly. "My apologies, Dean," he murmured, stepping away from the hunter.

Dean turned away, opening the beer in his hand and walked towards the bed, sitting down. "What's up Cas? Anything new with your feather friends upstairs?" he asked, looking at him.

"No." Castiel turned away from Dean and stared curiously at the Busty Asian Beauties magazine that lay on the table by the window. Dean followed the angel's gaze and cleared his throat loudly.

"Don't be offended man, but why are you here then?"

Castiel walked over to the small fridge, opening it and bending over to stare in for lack of something better to do. "I was bored. Where is Sam?"

Dean stared at him. "Sam's at Bobby's; had to collect some book. But let me get this straight: you appear here, out of nowhere, with no news, because you were bored?" he asked, voice rising with incredulity.

The angel straightened his back and turned his blue eyes on Dean. "It happens."

Dean stared at the angel as he stood awkwardly in the room, arms hanging at his sides, unsure of what to do.

"I thought perhaps you and Sam would be working a case, thought I could lend my assistance, or be entertained by you two," he said finally. Dean shook his head and sipped his beer, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Castiel 'got bored'.

"Well," he said, standing, "I'm going to go get some grub, you stay here and uh, do your angel things," he said, grabbing his jacket.

"Perhaps I can come with you," Castiel said, stepping towards Dean hopefully.

Dean turned his gaze to the angel. "Cas, no offence, but last time you came with me and Sam to get food you read the waitress' mind and it resulted in her freaking out and you had to wipe everyone's memory. Only be gone about half an hour, just stay here. Look at this, be normal for once." With that Dean threw his magazine towards Castiel and slammed the motel door.

Castiel stared down at the porn magazine then sat on the bed, preparing himself to wait for Dean's return.

Dean drove to the nearest diner, but ended up walking out when he saw it only had vegetarian burgers and they were out of chicken. He debated driving to the other restaurant, but that would take twenty minutes and he told the angel he'd back in half an hour. He didn't like to leave Castiel at all, and he found he had no reason for it; he just didn't like to be away from him.

He sped the Impala back to the motel, parking it some distance from his room since the other parking spaces were full. He sighed as he looked at his car parked next to the dumpster and patted the hood. "Just for one night baby, one night," he said regretfully, cursing the truck that was in his old parking space.

Dean walked towards the room and saw a strange glow coming from his room. Frowning, he stepped closer to the window, wondering if Cas was smiting some demon. He drew his gun, pointing it down, edging towards the window. He almost dropped his gun when he saw what was going on.

Peering through a crack in the curtains, he saw Cas, standing upright, eyes closed. And on either side of him were huge, glowing white wings. Castiel rolled his shoulders, sighing, and he batted his wings gently. The tips brushed the ceiling and Dean stared wide-eyed. They were absolutely beautiful. The white feathers looked soft and silky, and Dean wanted nothing more than to touch them, stroke them.

He knew he shouldn't be peeping and prying on Cas like this, but it was like he was melded in place. Castiel reached over, straightening out some feathers that were rather bunched. Finally, Dean came to his senses and walked to the door, pulling out his key and silently turning it in the lock. He entered the room, expecting the angel to turn to him, but Castiel didn't seem to hear his return.

Dean swallowed, his throat dry. He couldn't tear his eyes away from his wings. "Cas?" he called hoarsely.

Castiel's head shot over to Dean with inhuman speed and fear filled his eyes. "Dean!" he cried, stepping back from the hunter. Dean walked closer, putting out a hand to Castiel but the angel kept retreating until the bed hit the back of his knees and he sat with a thump on the bed. Castiel blushed brightly, covering his face and began to draw his wings in.

"No!" Dean cried, almost running to his side, wanting to behold their beauty longer. "No Cas, don't pull them in, they're beautiful," he gushed, staring at them.

Castiel shook, covering his face with his hands more and turned a dark shade of red. "P-Please don't s-stare, Dean," he stuttered, beginning to shake.

"Hey, Cas, hey, what's wrong? Don't be shy, they're fucking gorgeous," Dean said, looking at Castiel with concern, sitting on the bed opposite him and pulling his hands from his face. "What's wrong?"

"M-My wings, they're a very p-private part of me, Dean. I just wanted to stretch them out, then you came back early, and I – oh!" Castiel fell forward, covering his face again, feeling extremely embarrassed.

"Hey, hey," Dean cooed, catching the angel as he fell, wrapping his arm around Cas' shoulders. "I'm sorry I saw, but holy shit Cas, I've never seen anything more magnificent in my whole life."

Castiel buried his face in Dean's chest, as though it would somehow stop his embarrassment. Dean stared at his wings, entranced by their beauty, and his hand raised up and he stroked Cas' feathers, marveling at how soft they were. He wondered if he was even touching them; he'd never felt anything more soft in his whole life. The feathers were like silk as he brushed his fingertips over them.

Castiel gasped, tensing slightly and Dean bent his head towards him. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, terrified he had somehow pained his angel.

"N-No," Castiel stammered, pushing his face deeper into Dean's chest.

Dean reached out again, caressing the feathers of his left wing even more, adding slightly more pressure than earlier. He heard a muffled sound from Castiel but he decided to put off whatever he said while he had one more touch.

Dean ran his fingers over the feathers again, feeling them quiver slightly. And Dean's breath seemed to catch as Castiel repeated the muffled sound, but it wasn't muffled this time. Castiel had moaned when he touched his wings. Dean bit his lip, loving the sound that emitted from his angel and touched his wings again.

Castiel whimpered into him, and Dean felt a tightness in his jeans. "You like that, don't you Cas?" he asked, brushing his wings for more emphasis. Castiel didn't answer, groaning some more. Dean held the angel tighter to him and reached around at the base of the wings, stroking them from the back.

Castiel moaned loudly into Dean's shirt before pulling away suddenly and standing up. "I – I'm sorry Dean, I shouldn't have come here," he said abruptly, turning away from the hunter, preparing to leave.

"No!" Dean cried, standing up, grabbing Cas' hand that rested at his side. "You like this, Cas. Stay. Stay with me," he murmured, touching his wings again. Castiel's head tilted back, groaning softly at the hunter's touch.

Finally, Dean could stand it no longer. He reached his right arm around Castiel's waist, grabbing his left hip and turning the angel to face him, before pressing his lips against Castiel's.

Cas gave a muffled sound of surprise, but Dean didn't move. He moved his mouth against Cas', tasting him. He wrapped his arms around the angel, pulling him tightly to his chest, doing what he longed to do since he set eyes on him. He nibbled on his bottom lip, drawing it between his teeth and sucking it, sliding his tongue over it.

Castiel relaxed into Dean, pressing his hands against the hunter's muscled chest, letting Dean take control of his mouth. Dean pushed his tongue past Cas' lips, edging past his teeth. He rubbed his tongue against Castiel's, tasting him, exploring his mouth. Castiel groaned into the kiss, arousing the hunter. Dean gripped the angel tightly, kissing him roughly, biting his lip. He pushed the trench coat and jacket off Cas' shoulders, letting them fall to the floor.

He unbuttoned his white shirt, yanking it out of his pants and loosened his tie, not once breaking the kiss. He pulled the tie from Castiel's neck and yanked off the shirt, flinging it on the other side of the room. He didn't know how he managed to do that with Castiel's wings, but he figured the angel had his ways.

Dean ran his hand over the smaller being's chest. It was chiseled, but slender and perfect. Castiel had a toned body, and Dean let his hands roam freely. He reached to the angel's back and let his fingers touch the base of Castiel's wings, right where the feathers came out of the skin. Castiel broke the kiss, throwing back his head, crying out.

Dean could tell from his angel's expression; that was his most sensitive spot. He took this chance to attack Cas' neck, sucking on the flesh and biting it gently, to leave small hickey's, given time, all the while rubbing the base of Cas' wings.

Castiel whimpered, falling to pieces as Dean massaged the area where his wings began, and felt a strange blood rush in his groin. "Dean," he whispered softly.

"Yeah, baby?" Dean asked, pulling away to stare into his angel's beautiful blue eyes.

"I'm having the strangest sensation in my crotch," he whimpered, staring up at Dean with confusion.

Dean felt a grin tugging at his lips as the angel stared at him innocently and confusion in his features and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Don't worry baby, I'll take care of that."

Dean knelt down, unbuckling Castiel's belt and unbuttoning his pants, pulling down his zipper. "D-Dean," Castiel started, feeling nervous.

"Shh, trust me Cas," Dean said. He began to rub the bulge forming in Castiel's boxers. He massaged the Castiel's growing length before tugging down the waistband, exposing Castiel's member. He wrapped his hand around it, moving it up and down slowly.

"Ah!" Castiel threw back his head, panting as Dean stroked his erection.

"Anyone ever touch you like this?" Dean asked, looking up at his angel.

"No," Cas breathed. "Only you."

Dean hid his pleasure at those words and began rubbing Cas' member faster, before suddenly wrapping his mouth around the head. Castiel gasped as overwhelming pleasure ran through his veins. He didn't have time to protest as Dean began moving his mouth up and down Cas' erection, swirling his tongue around the tip.

Dean could feel himself getting harder by the second and after barely half a minute of sucking Castiel's cock; he knew he had to have him. Dean dragged down the rest of the angel's clothing so it sat at his ankles and pushed his hips gently towards the bed. Castiel got the idea and moved towards the bed, lying down.

Dean had his clothes off in ten seconds and was rubbing his cock as he climbed on top of his angel. Castiel stared wide-eyed at Dean's length, feeling apprehensive. Dean caught the look and smiled at his angel's innocence. "Don't worry baby, I'm about to send you to heaven, and a better one than the one you're visiting," Dean said, reaching up to kiss his angel's forehead before kissing him on the lips.

Dean pulled away, stroking himself slower, knowing if he went too fast he would explode just by looking at the angel. He reached up a hand, pushing a finger into Castiel's mouth. "Suck them for me, baby," he said, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as Castiel swirled his tongue around his finger, his innocent blue eyes staring at the hunter.

Dean took his finger from Cas' mouth and gave it a slow lick, wanting to taste the angel before reaching down and inserting it into Cas' hole. Castiel whimpered softly, feeling pain, and Dean quickly reached up to kiss him, hating to see pain on his angel's beautiful face. He removed his hand from his cock and stroked Cas' wings, which were spread out on either side of him.

Castiel groaned and Dean began to slowly slide his finger in and out of him, loving how tight Castiel felt, and that was only one finger. He inserted another, pushing in and out as he stroked his feathers simultaneously, wanting his angel to feel more pleasure than ever.

He made a scissoring movement with his fingers before removing them. Castiel hummed in protest but Dean caressed his cheek softly. "Don't worry baby, something better is coming."

Dean positioned his cock in front of Castiel's entrance and moved in slowly, getting the head in. Castiel cried out, his back arching in pain, but Dean bent his head, pressing a hot kiss to his lips, trying to reduce the pain. After Castiel adjusted, Dean began kissing his passionately and stroked his wings even more, knowing his angel would have to endure just a bit more pain.

He slid his cock in slowly until the entire thing was buried inside of Cas. Castiel squirmed, before slowly getting used to it. Dean slid in and out slowly, watching as Castiel's features morph into expressions of pleasure, the angel biting his lip and being unbelievably sexy without even knowing it.

He picked up speed, groaning as his cock went in and out, feeling how tight Castiel's ass was. He grunted, pushing into him deeper and deeper, ramming his prostate each time.

"Dean, Dean, I – " Dean could see from Castiel's expression he was about to release, but Castiel had no idea what he was about to do. Dean kissed him passionately, wanting to make Cas' first time the best. He moved his mouth to Cas' neck, sucking on the skin and let his fingers rub the base of Castiel's wings. Cas arched into Dean, crying out and Dean rubbed his wings faster, thrusting into him faster and deeper.

"Dean!" Castiel released, his liquid shooting out, flying onto Dean's stomach as well as his. Dean groaned loudly, hearing his angel cry his name and exploded into Cas, letting his hot liquid fill Cas. He moaned as he slid out of Castiel; it was the best orgasm he ever had. He fell next to Castiel on the bed, panting.

Castiel rolled over, laying his head on Dean's chiseled chest, breathing heavily. Dean wrapped an arm around his lover's shoulders, running his fingers through his angel's soft hair.

"Was that alright, Dean?" Castiel asked, looking up at Dean hopefully, since he knew he'd never done something like that before and Dean had a lot of experience. He hoped Dean wasn't disappointed and looked into the hunter's green eyes, feeling slightly afraid of his answer.

Dean could see his angel was nervous and smiled at his innocent, hopeful face before bending his head and capturing Castiel's lips in a hot kiss. "That was amazing, baby," he said, relaxing his angel's nerves.

Castiel sighed and curled up against Dean, knowing he would want to sleep since it was late. He traced the hunter's tattoo, content to remain in his position until Dean woke up.

Dean tightened his embrace around his lover and pressed a kiss into his hair before falling asleep, holding his angel tightly to him.


	2. Gabriel and Baby Castiel

Baby Castiel and Big Brother Gabriel

Gabriel walked through Heaven, flashing his gorgeous smile at a passing angel. His massive, golden wings fanned out behind him; six of them, to be specific, three pairs. He was going to see what his brother, Michael, was up to, when he heard crying.

To a human, an angel crying would sound like a beautiful melody, but whenever an angel cried in Heaven, rain fell somewhere in the world. And he was pretty sure a storm was starting from the wails he heard.

He followed the sobbing to where a fledgling sat, whimpering and sniffling. "Hey, little buddy," he greeted, stooping so he could talk to him easier. "What's wrong?"

A tiny angel with messy black hair looked up at him through big, wet, blue eyes and sniffed unhappily. "I can't fly," he said, his voice quivering.

"Well, little guy, your wings are a bit too small for that," he said, chuckling and he pulled the fledgling's tiny wings gently.

"But I want to fly!" he cried, pouting. Gabriel laughed, a deep, rich sound, and scooped up the tiny angel in his arms and stood up, hugging him to his broad chest.

"Well, soon you will be able to. You just have to wait a little while," he said, cradling him. "What's your name?"

"Castiel," the fledgling said, wiping his eyes with tiny fists. "Will my wings get big like yours?" he asked, turning his big blue eyes to look at Gabriel's golden wings.

"Yep, then you'll be able to fly too," Gabriel said, messing up his hair and smiling down at the adorable creature. "How about you run along now," he said, setting him down and walking off to find his brothers.

A few days later, Gabriel was walking to the armory where he liked to practice with the weapons. Every step he took he could hear some shuffling behind him. He paused, smiling, and turned to see Castiel, looking up at him, a finger in his mouth.

"Gabe!" he cried, stretching up his short arms towards him. Gabriel picked up the angel, swinging him around, not bothering to tell him that he should be taking his nap with the other fledglings, as angels sleep in Heaven.

"I want to fly," he told Gabriel, staring at him expectantly. "You can fly. Fly with me."

Gabriel tilted his head at the fledgling before giving in to those begging blue eyes. "Alright, little guy." He cradled Castiel in his arms and fanned out his wings. He fell forward then flapped them, rising higher and higher. Castiel squealed with joy and clapped his small hands.

Gabriel grinned down at his little brother and flew even higher. Castiel began to get too excited and squirmed around. Gabriel tried to keep a grip on him, but Castiel wormed his way out and slipped from his big brother, falling through the air, crying.

Gabriel swooped down in the blink of an eye and caught the fledgling, holding him tightly until he landed. "Castiel?" he asked, his heart pounding as he stared at him. Castiel trembled in his arms, his little body shaking and his blue eyes wide with fright.

Gabriel tried talking to him again, but Castiel seemed frozen. Panicked, he ran to find Lucifer. His older brother sat on the highest branch of his favourite tree, humming. "Lucifer!" Gabriel cried, flying up to sit next to him with a single bat of wings. "I think he's hurt," he said, passing the still shaking angel to him.

Lucifer took him gently, holding him against his chest. Castiel leaned his head against him, gripping Lucifer's robe in his tiny fists. "The little one is scared, brother," he said, cuddling the fledgling to him. "Have you been up to your tricks again?"

Gabriel explained, staring at his little brother the whole time. Lucifer sang to him, a short, sweet melody and Castiel's little body slowly stopped quivering. "Here," Lucifer said, handing him back to Gabriel. "He's alright now."

Gabriel thanked his older brother and Lucifer smiled back at him before he flew off his branch. Gabriel hugged the tiny thing to him and a soft voice said, "Gabe?"

"Hey, it's me, little brother. Are you okay?" he asked, shifting Castiel so he sat on his lap.

"Th-that was sc-scary," he whimpered, hiding his face in Gabriel's robe.

"It's alright, I have you now," Gabriel cooed, petting his head and stroking his messy hair. "Maybe now you'll be a little more patient to fly?" he asked, cracking a small smile at the fledgling.

Castiel turned his blue eyes to Gabriel's radiant face and smiled back. "Yes, Gabe," he said, before squirming against Gabriel so he lay on his lap, his tiny body curling up to fit perfectly. Gabriel crooned to him and stroked his hair until Castiel fell asleep on him and he later drifted off, his head resting against the tree trunk and a hand wrapped around the tiny fledgling.


	3. Wincest - Smut

Wincest – Smut

Sam tried.

He really did. But it was so hard. How could he not love his brother? Dean was perfect. There wasn't a single flaw. Not in Sam's eyes anyway. He loved him since he was a little boy. He remembered how whenever he had a nightmare he would crawl into Dean's bed and no matter how sleepy Dean was he would wake himself up and murmur soothing things until Sam fell asleep curled up next to his older brother.

He remembered how he got a cut when he was three and he cried, and Dean kissed it and hugged Sam until he stopped crying. He remembered how his first steps were towards Dean; their dad hadn't even been home. He remembered how much Dean had cheered then hugged him tightly. He remembered how Dean stole things so they could have a proper Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or Easter.

He even remembered how Dean put five dollars which he spent all month saving underneath Sam's pillow so he would think the tooth fairy left it, and all Dean got in return was a pointy canine tooth.

But when he neared his teenage years, he realized that it wasn't simply a younger brother thinking his older sibling was the world. He had a crush on Dean_. Dean._ He missed how he couldn't hug Dean whenever he wanted to. But Dean always let Sam hang off his arm and climb him like a tree whenever he asked. At least, until he hit his growth spurt and shot up like a weed.

Then when he started his twenties, he began to love Dean. He always did, but now he just realized it was a lot more than what he thought it was. Then he left for Stanford and met Jess and he almost forgot about Dean. Almost.

Then he showed up and Sam fell right back in love with him without missing a beat. He constantly repressed the feelings but now, Sam didn't only love him. He wanted him.

How fucked up is that? That he got himself off thinking about his brother. That he woke up in the middle of the night, panting and sweaty because he had a dream of Dean and him fucking each other, and palmed himself through his shorts, releasing in seconds just thinking about him. How he would always stare at Dean when he was shirtless and found any excuse to take care of his cuts just so he could touch him.

So considering how he'd felt all those years, he thought it was safe to say he tried. Well, up until last night.

He and Dean had finished a hunt and went to a bar, Dean drinking liquor like it was water and Sam chasing his. "Aw, come on, Sammy! Just one glass without downing something that isn't alcoholic after it," Dean coaxed.

Sam laughed at how his brother slurred his words. "Yeah, how about I stick to this and let there be only one of us waking up with a killer hangover tomorrow?" Dean rolled his eyes and emptied his glass in one go, placing it on the counter and raising a finger for the bartender.

He flirted with her, as usual. Sam didn't mind, really, since he always did it. And then there were the nights Dean would stumble into their motel room, completely hammered with whoever the woman of the night was and he thought Sam was asleep. Sam was ashamed to say he got himself off multiple times listening to Dean's groans. So Sam didn't feel anything when he flirted with other women, they only lasted one night anyway.

But that was other _women._

So when Sam and Dean stood at the pool table playing, Dean sinking all of his shots with perfect aim, despite being able to stand up straight, and Dean flirted with another guy who joined them along with his partner, Sam was pissed.

At least when he flirted with women he knew that even if they weren't brothers Dean wouldn't be with him because he was of completely different gender.

Sam didn't even know Dean wasn't straight. The man slept with so many women it was unbelievable to think he might have been anything but straight. So of course, Sam was furious.

But he was even more furious when the _guy flirted back._

Sam gripped his wooden pole so tightly he could have broken it. But still, he kept his cool and gritted his teeth and bent over to line up his next shot. But when the guy tried to kiss Dean, Sam lost it.

He grabbed the back of Dean's collar and yanked him back. Dean stumbled, and he was already unstable to begin with, and the guy blinked, trying to figure out what just happened because Sam pulled Dean back so fast.

"Sorry fellas, but we'd better be going," he said through clenched teeth and hauled Dean out of the bar. The second they exited the building, Dean kept up a string of curse words all hurled at Sam.

Sam said nothing; he just kept walking, a hand on Dean's arm, pushing him to walk and his eyes staring straight ahead.

"Seriously, dude? What the fuck was your problem, you completely lost it back there, I swear if you do that to me again…" Dean didn't even shut up when he slammed the door of the motel room, arguing the two blocks back to the motel, past the confused motel owner, all the way through the elevator ride, and he still hadn't stopped.

Sam took off his jacket, Dean still babbling, his drunken stupor making words pour out of his mouth like water and then he wasn't making any noise because Sam's lips were pressed against his.

Sam couldn't resist it anymore, Dean had no idea how fucking sexy he looked when he was angry and it seemed like his clothes hugged him, outlining his perfect body even though they fitted him loosely. Sam didn't even know he'd done it until he realized how quiet it seemed without Dean's constant talking.

But when he realized he was sucking on his brother's bottom lip, nothing felt better. Then he felt Dean's hands against his chest and he was shoved away, stumbling back. Dean's eyes were wide, stricken with horror and any hopes Sam might have had of Dean not remembering what he did because he was drunk when out the window as he was completely sobered up. His brother looked at him with what seemed like disgust and Sam broke down.

He ran his hands through his hair, shoulders heaving and he found tears leaking from his eyes. "Dean, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I just…" He sat down on the bed, head bent as he cried, knowing he ruined any normal relationship he could ever have with Dean.

But then Dean was there, too pained to see his little brother crying, and he wiped the tears from his eyes, kneeling in front of him and kissing his tear stained cheeks. "Shh, Sammy, shh, it's alright, don't cry, shh…"

Dean's lips kissed the corner of his eyes and Sam looked up, eyes watery and blinked at Dean. "I'm sorry…" he whimpered, afraid his brother would be furious with him.

But Dean's large hands cupped his face and their foreheads touched and Dean's mouth was on his. Dean nibbled on Sam's bottom lip, then edged his tongue past his teeth, tasting his little brother. Sam surprised himself when he pulled away and stared at Dean in utter confusion. "You're not mad?"

Dean sighed, looking up at Sam with such pain Sam had no idea how to even begin to fix it. "Sam, this is fucked up. Trust me, I know it. Since I took care of you, I couldn't stop thinking of kissing you. How fucked up is that?" Dean kissed him.

"How fucked up is it that I want to screw my little brother? That I want to fuck his brains out until he can't see straight?" Dean kissed him again.

"That I love my brother more than I should?" And Dean kissed him.

Sam vaguely remembered Dean pushing him on the bed, how he tore his shirt off of him, how Dean seemed to make his own clothes vanish in two seconds. Dean kissed his brother's chest, licking his nipples, biting his neck, massaging Sam's tongue with his own.

"Oh Sammy…" Dean moaned, moving lower to tug Sam's boxers down, taking his cock in his hand. Sam's hips bucked, wanting to feel more of his brother's warm hand on him. Dean steadied him with his other hand, rubbing the smooth skin below his calloused grip before bowing his head and licking the head, and Sam went crazy.

He chanted his older brother's name, groaning in pleasure. He stared down when Dean stopped holding him down to see Dean's hand on his own cock, rubbing it as he sucked Sam. Dean moved his head down, taking in all of his little brother while staring Sam straight in the eye and Sam lost it, falling to pieces with his brother's hot mouth around his swollen cock.

Sam barely remembered Dean flipping him over onto his hands and knees. He felt Dean's mouth at his ass, licking his hole and sticking one finger, then two, then three. He heard the pop of a bottle cap then Dean's fingers again in him, slick with lube, pumping in and out and Sam yelled, pushing back his hips for more.

"Mmm, so tight Sammy," he whispered hoarsely and Sam almost broke down at the sound of his brother's rough, sexy voice. It didn't take Dean long to see his brother was one for dirty talk and showed him no mercy, breathing out the filthiest things. He rubbed his hand over Sam's ass, squeezing the firm flesh, leaving bruised fingerprints everywhere.

"You like this, don't you Sammy?" he cooed, bending over Sam, pressing his body flush against Sam's back. "Yeah, you like feeling big brother's fingers in you, fingering your tight little virgin hole, don't you?"

Dean removed his hand from Sam's ass and straightened his back to lube himself up and grinned wickedly when he heard Sam's broken cry of protest. "Easy, baby brother…"

Dean eased himself into Sam, throwing back his head and groaning loudly as Sam's tightness. Sam was a mess; he jerked and twisted, trying to get Dean to move. Dean moved his hips slowly, bending over to press himself to Sam's back again.

"Oh yeah, you love this, you dirty little slut. That's what you are, aren't you? Hungering for your brother's cock in you, wanting to feel me thrusting inside of you, you dirty boy," Dean murmured into Sam's ear, gaining speed as he thrusted into Sam.

Neither Dean nor Sam could figure out how long they went at it for, but Dean felt his balls tighten and he wrapped an arm around Sam's waist, wrapping his hand around Sam's cock, jerking it. Sam thrashed, screaming in pleasure as Dean rubbed him and slammed his cock into his asshole. Sam felt his orgasm shudder through his whole body as Dean milked him onto the sheets.

Dean soon let go of his cock though, to grip Sam's hips and pound into him, ramming his prostate until his hot liquid shot into Sam, filling him. Dean groaned Sam's name and pulled out of him. Sam collapsed onto the bed in his own come and rolled over to face his brother who leaned over him.

Dean bent down to capture Sam's lips in a hungry kiss before Sam's eyes began to slowly shut. Dean stepped off the bed and lifted Sam, his muscles straining since Sam was bigger than he was, but he managed it, placing Sam on the other bed with clean sheets. Sam pulled Dean down next to him and Dean wrapped an arm around his younger brother, pressing a kiss into his brown hair before they both fell asleep.

The next morning, Dean stood in the shower until the curtain pulled back and he felt a pair of warm hands run over his wet body and he knew his shower wasn't going to last its usual ten minutes.


	4. Michael, Lucifer, and Castiel

Castiel Doesn't Like Arguing

"I can never love them, brother!"

"Then you will learn!"

Their voices were louder than thunder. Michael and Lucifer were arguing again. There was once a time when they were very close, picking and teasing each other, just like brothers. But that never happened now.

Lucifer raised his voice at Michael again and Michael roared back at him. The other angels sighed, looking at each other tiredly. It had become so common; they didn't even know what silence sounded like anymore. Even when they thought all was quiet, it was only because Michael and Lucifer were arguing in hushed tones.

Gabriel and Raphael struggled to calm the young fledglings who were whimpering and shaking, afraid when they heard their brothers arguing. The young ones never liked conflict.

"Hush, hush, it's alright," Gabriel cooed, cradling a tiny angel with light brown hair, patting his back and stroking his small wings.

One small fledgling with dark brown hair and big blue eyes, the youngest and tiniest in all of Heaven, covered his ears, rolling on his back and rocking himself, hiding behind his brother.

He rocked himself, wondering why there was so much noise.

"Dammit Lucifer!"

Lucifer?

The fledgling's ears perked up. Lucifer was there! The tiny angel crawled on his hands and knees in the direction of the voices, Gabriel and Raphael too busy trying to soothe the troubled fledglings to notice one was leaving.

The blue eyed angel shuffled forward until the voices got louder, so loud he almost wanted to crawl away, but he wanted his big brother.

"You forget you are not Father, Michael!" Lucifer roared, seeming to grow two inches taller.

The fledgling's head tilted to the side, confused. Michael shouted back at him and by this time, the angel had crawled to them. Lucifer looked down; his eyes blazing with fire, feeling something tug his robe. The fledgling cocked his head to one side, his big blue eyes staring up in confusion.

"Luci angwy?"

Lucifer immediately relaxed his hostile expression, softening his eyes as he bent down to pick up his little brother. "Castiel, you shouldn't be here."

Michael, however, was still steaming at what Lucifer said and wasn't finished his argument. He didn't even see Castiel and advanced towards Lucifer, his voice thundering and arm outstretched, his palm glowing with a white light, intending to hurt Lucifer. It wouldn't be a surprise; not all of their arguments were verbal.

Castiel's bright eyes widened in fear and he let out a loud sob. Lucifer's wings flung out behind him and covered himself and the fledgling, holding Castiel to his chest so he wouldn't be hurt. Lucifer winced slightly, expecting to feel some sort of searing pain on his wings, but it never came. Lucifer covered Castiel's dark head with his hand and lowered his wings cautiously.

Michael stood staring at him. Well, his chest. Castiel continued crying, big hot tears spilling from his eyes and he looked at Michael, his lower lip jutting out unhappily. "Mikey scawy," he hiccupped, starting to cry again.

Michael felt his heart break at seeing his littlest brother cry and he reached out to him. Lucifer immediately stepped back, clutching Castiel to him, but Michael gave him a look and he reluctantly let Michael take him.

Michael cradled Castiel who continued crying. Michael rubbed Castiel's back, murmuring soothing words. "Shh, it's alright Castiel, I'm sorry I scared you, please don't cry, shh…" Michael cooed into his ear.

Castiel slowly stopped crying and looked at Michael, his chubby cheeks still wet with tears. "Mikey not angwy with Luci?"

"No, not anymore." Michael was surprised to find himself telling the truth; while he still had to sort out some things with Lucifer, seeing the fierce protection his younger brother had for the fledgling had calmed him.

Michael's head was suddenly filled with melodious singing, and he knew his Father was calling him. He pushed back Castiel's messy brown hair from his forehead and pressed a kiss to it before handing Castiel back to Lucifer.

"I must leave, but we are not finished," he said, giving his brother a stern but not angry look. Lucifer nodded grudgingly, still unable to see the strange love Michael and all the others had for their Father's future creation and cradled Castiel who watched Michael fly off gracefully in awe.

"Luci and Mikey not gonna argue no more?" Castiel turned his blue eyes to stare into Lucifer's golden ones. Lucifer smiled at his baby brother.

"No, we won't," he said, and he meant to do his best to keep that promise to the tiny angel. "Now, how about we go up and find a star for you to play with?"

Castiel giggled happily and clapped his tiny hands. Lucifer smiled and hugged his baby brother to him, unfurling his wings and flying up to the stars, the sound of Castiel's laughter the most pleasing thing he'd ever heard in his life.


	5. Destiel - Fluff

Destiel – Fluff

Castiel rose from the bed. He hadn't been sleeping, but simply letting Dean cuddle him while the hunter slept. Dean and Sam had finally decided to take a vacation and Sam went off taking a short course, which Castiel understood more than Dean; Sam loved learning. Castiel always admired that about him, mostly because he was the same way as well. Dean was more of a hands-on kind of guy.

And Castiel loved him for that.

Dean got a job as a mechanic, even though their vacation wasn't very long, and got up every morning to go to work. Well, Castiel woke him up. It was surprisingly new for Dean, earning his money, and he rather liked working to get money than simply using someone else's credit cards.

Castiel traced a finger along Dean's cheek, feeling the slight stubble there and sighed contentedly, watching his hunter sleep. Soon, he got up and put on some clothes, Dean's actually, after the hunter insisted on Castiel not wearing a suit in the apartment they rented. Castiel, however, insisted, much to Dean's annoyance and amusement, on wearing his trenchcoat.

Castiel checked the clock and bent over Dean, shaking his shoulder gently. "Dean," he said softly, trying to wake him. Dean mumbled something and rolled over, hands stretching over the mattress as he felt for Castiel.

"Dean," he said, a bit louder.

"Five more minutes, Cas," Dean said, his voice raspy. He turned around slightly; his eyes shut, and reached out his hands, feeling for Castiel.

The angel gave him his hand and Dean tugged him down into the bed, rolling to his original side to face him. Dean's eyes didn't even open; he already knew Castiel was wearing it, and pushed his hand on his shoulder.

"I'll never understand you and this damned trenchcoat," he mumbled, pushing his hand more and shoving off the coat. Castiel allowed him, eventually sitting up and pulling off the trenchcoat. Dean pulled him down again, nuzzling his face into Castiel's neck and humming, going back to sleep.

Castiel slipped an arm around Dean's neck and stroked his messy hair slightly. After exactly five minutes, Castiel began to rouse Dean again, knowing if he waited any longer Dean wouldn't get up.

"Dean!" he cried, shoving the hunter off of him even though he hated to do so. He stood up quickly before Dean could begin cuddling him again.

The hunter groaned, squinting as Castiel pulled apart the curtains. "You have work, go get ready," Castiel said, turning to face him and to make sure he didn't go back to bed again.

Dean stood up and stumbled to his stern lover, placing his hands on his waist and giving him a kiss on the cheek, mumbling a 'good morning to you too, Cas' before shuffling into the bathroom. Castiel watched the half awake hunter fondly before going downstairs.

He poured some oil into a pan, cracking a few eggs into it. It was only then he remembered that he was supposed to whisk them and hurriedly pulled the pan off the heat, grabbing a fork and swirling it around the setting eggs madly. He placed it back on the heat again and frowned, noticing something wasn't right, before he ran to the cabinet to get some salt and pepper.

Castiel began making the coffee, being sure to put in milk and sugar, since last time he forgot it and ended up putting twice as much coffee, making Dean choke on it.

He forgot to grill the sausages before the eggs since they take longer to cook and rushed madly to do that so the eggs could stay a little while longer in the hot pan without getting burnt. He managed to get things under control and was scooping it out in a plate when Dean came downstairs, trying to fold the overalls he wore to work.

"Ah, thanks Cas," he said, dumping the overalls on the couch and walking over to the table, his eyes glued to the plate.

"You're welcome, Dean," Castiel said in his usual monotone voice. He tried putting some emotion into it once, but Dean stopped him, saying it was what made Cas Cas.

"C'mere," he said, lifting a fork with eggs on it to Castiel.

"Dean, you know I don't eat," he protested, even though they had this exact conversation every morning.

"Come on, just try it," Dean coaxed, shaking the fork at him.

Castiel sighed and, just like every morning, leaned over, letting Dean feed him the eggs. After Castiel took the eggs into his mouth, Dean stabbed another clump of them and stuffed it in his mouth, mumbling, "Good, innit?"

"Yes, it's good," Castiel replied. It certainly was interesting, yesterday it had been toast, which Castiel hadn't liked, and the day before it was bacon, which he found too salty, and some orange juice, which tasted nothing like the juice he would squeeze fresh from an orange in Heaven, it was awfully bitter compared to that. Eggs weren't so bad.

Castiel moved over to the couch, lifting Dean's overalls and beginning to fold them neatly. "You know, you could leave these in your place of work," he said, shaking it to get some of the wrinkles out.

"So some freak could work some voodoo on it and have it strangle me when I put it on? No thanks," he said, sipping his coffee.

Castiel didn't reply; it was Dean's nature to be cautious of everything. He folded Dean's overalls then went back over to Dean just as he was finishing the last bit of his breakfast. He fed Castiel a piece of his sausage before gulping down the rest of his coffee and going upstairs to grab his keys.

Castiel got the brown paper bag in the fridge containing Dean's lunch which he prepared the night before and set his overalls next to it on the counter. Dean pounded down the stairs, grabbing the bag and tucking the overalls below his arm.

Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel's waist, pulling him against his body and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Be back soon, baby."

Castiel walked him to the door and watched as his hunter drove off in the Impala, giving Cas a wink right before he took off down the road.


	6. Dean and Jealous Sam

Weecest - Smut

"Here's your double bacon cheeseburger and fries, Dean," the waitress said flirtily; bending over much more than was necessary to put the plate in front of him. Dean licked his lips, and he wasn't looking at the burger.

"Mmm, thanks Katie," he said, winking at her. She flushed then placed the other plate in front of Sam.

"And here you go, Sam, one chicken salad, with extra chicken and a side of onion rings I fried extra crispy, just how you like it."

Sam wished she was something they could hunt.

He nodded his thanks and stuffed his mouth with the onion rings, which were annoyingly good, and watched as the stupid waitress threw herself all over Dean. He chomped on the onion rings as hard as he could, watching while Dean flirted back.

He wanted to stuff onion rings down her mouth till she choked.

She had to leave hurriedly when her boss came out of his office, but not before letting Dean know that her shift was finishing early that day. Dean had nodded and bit his lip at her, letting her know he'd be there.

Sam gritted his teeth and stuffed his salad into his mouth, chewing as angrily as chewing can be done, but Dean didn't even notice, too absorbed in his burger. Sam glared at Katie as she served another customer. If only she could slip on the floor in the kitchen and fall backwards into the deep fryer.

The car ride back, Dean glanced over at Sam who was staring out the window, still fuming. "Hey, what's up?" he asked. He was speeding to drop Sam off so he could go and pick up Katie so he figured he better deal with whatever was upsetting Sam now.

"Nothing," Sam mumbled, shifting in his seat.

"C'mon Sammy, what's got your panties in a twist?"

Sam couldn't contain himself. "You're fucking Katie, aren't you?"

The Impala swerved wildly before Dean got it under control again. "What?" he asked, coughing.

"You're fucking her." It was a statement.

Sam watched as Dean glared out the windshield, his eyes hard and drove steadily for a while. Just when Sam thought he wouldn't answer, Dean wrenched the steering wheel to the side and they turned down a deserted side street. He jammed on the brakes and Sam was too busy watching the ceiling of the car as his head snapped back when Dean grabbed him.

"No, I'm not fucking her," Dean growled, feeling angry that his brother would even think of him doing that to someone that wasn't Sam.

"Then what are you doing?" Dean tilted his head at Sam and smirked.

"Aw, is my little Sammy jealous?"

Sam flushed and he looked away from his brother's teasing eyes. "ShudupDean," he mumbled.

Dean's fingers relaxed his grip on Sam's shirt and he instead moved one hand to Sam's back to hold him upright and the other to trace the skin above the neckline of his shirt.

"My little boy is jealous, isn't he," he murmured, moving his lips to kiss Sam's cheek. Sam whimpered, feeling his brother's hot breath on his skin.

"You know what we do?" Dean pushed Sam down on the seat and leaned over him, placing soft kisses on his neck.

"Katie is a little cockslut, just like you. And she sucks my cock until I cum, and you know what I think about?" he asked against his brother's neck, licking it slowly.

"Wh-what?" Sam gasped, trying to catch his breath.

"I think of you sucking me, Sammy, your lips around me, your hair in my hands, and your hot little tongue licking me, cumming down your throat," he whispered huskily. Sam felt himself get even harder beneath his jeans and he groaned, hips bucking.

Dean moved his hand lower down to cup Sam's growing bulge and Sam nearly went crazy feeling his brother's hands on him.

"Look at you, getting so jealous. She can't even take me the way you can. Not the way you can swallow all of my cum, she can't even go all the way down." Dean palmed him slowly and Sam moaned loudly, trying to get Dean to do more.

"She's not as skilled as you are Sammy, you little slut." Dean moved to kiss his brother's prominent collarbone, nipping the skin. Sam groaned, reaching around his hand to run through Dean's hair. Dean sat up suddenly, yanking Sam with him and shoved open the car door.

Dean pushed it shut then slammed Sam up against it. "You've always wanted me to do this, haven't you, baby boy?" Dean grinded his hips into Sam, who moaned like anything.

"Always wanted your big brother to fuck you on his car. I've heard you whimpering in your sleep, you dirty slut." Dean sucked Sam's neck, leaving love bites.

"You love your brother's cock, don't you Sammy? You ache for it in your dreams, don't you?" Sam's legs, which were wrapped around Dean's waist, tightened and he desperately rubbed against him, needing friction.

"What do you say you show my cock how much you love it, huh?" Dean asked huskily in his ear. Sam loosened his legs around Dean and his brother turned them so Dean lay against the car.

"Go on, baby boy, show me how much you love it." Sam dropped to his knees, being the obedient boy he is, and his fingers fumbled as he struggled to unbutton Dean's pants. He unzipped them and reached into his brother's boxers, pulling out his hardening cock.

"That's right, Sammy, so experienced, knowing just how much to pull down your older brother's pants, you little cockslut," he murmured, running his hands through Sam's hair.

Sam took Dean's cock into his hand and kissed the tip before moving his mouth over it and looking up at Dean, doing the innocent, lost puppy look he knew always drove Dean crazy. Dean groaned loudly and began to push himself into Sam's eager mouth.

"Look at you, not even gagging, so used to your brother's size, had it so many times," he groaned, beginning to thrust into Sam's hot mouth. Sam moaned around his cock, beginning to palm himself with the other hand; he absolutely loved Dean's cock.

"Getting yourself off on my cock, no matter how many times you do it, you little slut," Dean murmured, watching down at Sam.

All too soon for Sam, Dean pulled out and bent down to lift Sam. Dean walked to the hood of the Impala in once stride and lay Sam down on it, getting his little brother's cock out of his jeans. Dean took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head and Sam bucked his hips, face twisting as he groaned.

Dean made Sam release into his mouth and he swallowed every single drop of Sam's cum. He reached up and kissed his little brother, letting him taste himself on Dean's tongue.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy…" Dean yanked off Sam's jeans and boxers and pulled him to the edge of the hood, pulling out a mini bottle of lube he always carried around in his pocket.

"Look at you, a trembling mess on the hood, you sexy boy." Dean lubed his fingers and inserted them into Sam's tight hole, his brother hardening all over again.

"So tight Sammy…" Dean inserted another two fingers slowly, stretching Sam, before lubing his cock and slipping it into Sam's hole.

Sam felt himself trash and Dean held him down, slowly thrusting into him, watching as Sam bit his lip and pant for more.

"You dirty little boy, you love it when big brother Dean fucks you, don't you?" he cooed, beginning to thrust faster.

"Look at you, losing yourself over my cock, you love it, don't you baby boy, you love having Dean inside you, fucking your hole," Dean began pounding into Sam, gripping his hips as he rammed into him.

Sam cried out with pleasure, screaming into the night and Dean released one of his hips to wrap around Sam's cock, jerking it. "That's it, baby boy, cum for me, cum for your big brother…"

Sam gasped as he released a second time, he didn't even know he could do that, and Dean felt himself giving in watching Sam's beautiful features contorted in pleasure and he released into him, filling him with his cum.

Sam's head hit the back of the hood panting, and Dean reached up, giving him a long kiss.

"D-Dean, what about K-Katie," he gasped when Dean had pulled away; knowing Dean was supposed to pick her up. Dean lifted his little brother into a sitting position so he could kiss him some more.

"She just has to understand that my baby boy comes first."


	7. Gabriel and Lucifer

Gabriel and Lucifer

Lucifer remembered Gabriel. He remembered more about Gabriel than Gabriel remembered about himself.

He remembered when Michael first returned with their fourth and final archangel fledgling. How he used to stay, watching over Gabriel while he gurgled and made lovely little sounds in small bed.

He remembered when all the archangels were resting and little Gabriel couldn't sleep, and how he would rub the sleep from his eyes and cradle his baby brother in his arms and rock him until his eyelids shut before going back to his bed.

He remembered how whenever he heard the slightest whimper from Gabriel's bed how he would be at his side in an instant. How he would watch the small crease on the fledgling's forehead as he had some awful nightmare.

How he would take Gabriel into his own bed and cuddle him until the whimpers stopped and he fell into a peaceful sleep with Lucifer's arms wrapped around him.

How when Gabriel cried he would hear it no matter where he was in Heaven and he would fly back like the wind for his little brother and take him from whichever archangel was trying to comfort him, how Gabriel would clutch his robe and hide his face in his chest and how the shudders soon stopped once he held him.

Lucifer remembered how Gabriel started walking while Michael, Raphael and he sat around him, and how Gabriel took his first steps towards Lucifer, reaching out his arms for his big brother.

He remembered when Gabriel's first word was 'Luci', and how it was because of little Gabriel the other archangel's called him Luci as well.

He remembered how once when Gabriel fell he was right there to pick him up and kiss his knee and stop the tears.

He remembered when he taught Gabriel to fly and how he would catch him every single time he fell before he finally did it.

Lucifer remembered how he taught Gabriel how to make clones of himself and duplicate objects. How he taught him to make the clones speak, and how to make objects into something different.

He remembered when Gabriel got so tired of Lucifer and Michael's fighting that he left Heaven. Lucifer mourned the loss of his little brother; it was for Gabriel Lucifer tried his hardest to love humans but he couldn't do it.

He remembered all the time he was locked in his Cage, all he could think about was whether Gabriel was okay.

Lucifer remembered when he was finally free, the first thing he wanted to do was find Gabriel, but he knew he was the reason Gabriel had fled and he forced himself to stay put.

He remembered how when his little brother confronted him, how Gabriel apparently remembered nothing of their time in Heaven and was ready to kill him.

He remembered how he pleaded and tried to coax Gabriel into joining him so he wouldn't have to kill him, so he could have his brother back.

He remembered how he kept up the façade of being the arrogant and smug victor when Gabriel refused, despite the fact he was hurt that his brother didn't join him, and he turned around to stab the blade into Gabriel.

He remembered how it was only when he twisted the blade in him and he heard his little brother's tortured scream that he realized what he'd done and his smug look broke.

He remembered how he stared down at his body and knew he was dead because of him. He remembered how he cried because his favourite little brother was gone.

Because his baby brother never remembered his time with the angel he once nicknamed 'Luci'.

And he never remembered just how much his older brother loved him.


	8. Gabriel and Castiel

Gabriel and Castiel

"Easy, Cas," Dean said gruffly. Sam stood on the other side of him, each of the angel's arms wrapped around the other's neck. Castiel's head hung down, blood all over him and his eyes flickered as he tried to keep them open.

"What happened?" Bobby asked, standing up from the table, staring at Castiel.

"Friggin angel attacked him," Dean said as he and Sam lay Castiel down on the couch.

Dean tried to take off Castiel's blood drenched trench coat but the angel screamed in pain. "Looks like more damage was done in him than on him, boys," Bobby said when Castiel had relaxed somewhat. "I don't know how we're going to fix this."

"There must be something Bobby, look at him," Sam protested.

"Cas? Cas!" Dean hit him on the cheeks lightly as his eyes started to close.

Castiel mumbled in Enochian before weakly saying, "Gabriel." He coughed, a broken sound, and his head fell back, eyes shut.

Dean called Castiel's name a few times after, but he was completely passed out.

"Dean? What'd he say?"

Dean stood up, swiping a palm down his face angrily, muttering below his breath. "I ain't calling him."

"Who?"

"Gabriel," Dean spat.

Sam sighed. "Dean, come on, Cas thinks he can help," he said.

"Listen Sammy, Cas… Cas is hurt, alright? He doesn't know what he's saying, he isn't thinking clearly."

"Look, Dean, I know you don't like him, I don't either, but we can't deal with this. This is angel stuff Dean."

"I'm not calling that son of a bitch. Not happening. We'll research it, we'll find a way."

Bobby sighed heavily. "Dean, real angel lore is difficult to find, it could take ages to find an answer, and Cas doesn't have much time."

"Yeah Dean, and Gabriel is an archangel, he could help Cas, for all we know he could snap his fingers and put Cas right," Sam said patiently, trying to reason with his brother.

Dean paced, shaking his head the whole time.

"Look son, we have two choices: get an archangel, or page through musty old books for information that might not even be there."

Dean stopped and sighed, looking up at Bobby. He then turned to Sam, who nodded, and hung his head. "Gabriel, you stupid son of a bitch, get your feathery ass at Bobby's and your angel mojo better be in good shape."

The three of them looked around, waiting. Seconds ticked by, punctuated with Castiel's uneven breathing.

Dean was about to start yelling when there was the slightest breeze.

"Hello, Dean-o." Gabriel grinned at them, pulling a lollipop out of his mouth. His grin fell from his face when he looked past them and he dropped the lollipop, disappearing from where he stood against the doorway. Dean and Sam blinked, looking around and saw Gabriel kneeling next to the couch, a hand on Castiel's forehead.

"What happened?" he asked, his face full of horror, giving the brothers and Bobby a glance before turning back his eyes at Castiel.

"Got in a fight with one of your stupid flying sacks of shit," Dean snapped.

"Dean," Sam said, giving him a stern look; they were Gabriel's brothers after all. Dean huffed, sitting down on a chair.

"Can you fix him?" Bobby asked.

Gabriel pressed two fingers to Castiel's forehead, sending him into a state of unconsciousness and turned to face them.

"He's hurt. Bad. I'm going to need holy oil and some time alone with him," Gabriel said.

"I'll go get that oil," Bobby said, leaving to go into the basement.

"Hell no. If you think I'm leaving him with you, you're out of your goddamn mind," Dean said, advancing towards Castiel.

Gabriel stood so quickly Dean didn't even see it happen. His eyes flashed red and an unearthly glow came from him. Thunder cracked and all six of wings spread behind him, only the shadows appearing on the wall.

"Stay away from him!" Gabriel roared, his voice deep and it rumbled the entire house, several bottles in the room breaking.

Dean stumbled backwards and Sam rushed to his brother's side, an arm on his shoulder to stop Dean from doing anything he would definitely regret.

Gabriel's eyes went to gold as he relaxed himself, but his stance in front of his younger brother didn't falter. "I will take care of him. Leave."

"Dean. Dean, come on!" Sam had to pull Dean out of the room, not because Dean was resisting, but because he was too struck with awe and fear, though would never admit it, at the sliver of the archangel's true form. After years of Gabriel never being serious and acting like such a human, it never occurred to him just how powerful he really was.

Gabriel sank to his knees next to his brother, feeling his Grace ebbing out of him. "Oh Cassie," he sighed. Bobby walked in with a jar of holy oil. "That'll be enough?"

Gabriel nodded. "Wait outside, will you?"

"Sure thing." Bobby felt the house vibrate earlier and after spending ages of leafing through angel lore, he knew how powerful archangels could be and he was perfectly fine with just reading about it; demonstrations were completely unneeded.

Gabriel snapped his fingers, the clothes disappearing off of Castiel and he dipped his hands on the holy oil, rubbing it all over him. He looked at Castiel's face and sighed. "Sorry, little brother."

He dipped his hands into Castiel, feeling his Grace, which was torn and ripped, scorched and holes in it. Fragments floated around, slowly breaking into smaller pieces. Gabriel let some of his own Grace flow into Castiel and he began the tedious and meticulous work of mending Castiel's Grace, which would have been excruciating to Castiel, had he not stilled his nerves.

Hours upon hours passed and Gabriel could feel his strength fade, he wasn't anywhere near done. Once he fixed Castiel's Grace, it would heal him by itself, even though Castiel was unconscious.

Gabriel worked into the night, feeling his shoulders sag with fatigue and keeping his eyes open became a struggle. His fingers moved sluggishly inside of Castiel and his head fell against his chest. He pushed on, piecing together Castiel as fast as possible, which wasn't very fast at all.

Dawn broke and Gabriel sealed the last bit of his Grace together. With a cry, he fell backwards, unconscious on the carpet.

Dean, Sam and Bobby rushed in, hearing the shout and Dean knelt over Gabriel, trying to wake him. Sam placed Castiel's trench coat over him then brought down an old air bed, which Bobby helped Dean move Gabriel to lie on.

"Takes a lot to tire out an archangel," Bobby remarked as they watched Gabriel on the air bed.

Dean and Sam hummed their agreement then turned their gaze to Castiel, who looked loads better; the dried blood was gone from his face and he looked peaceful, resting on the couch.

Gabriel stirred about an hour later, pushing himself up from the air bed. Dean looked at him; he was the only one there since Bobby was in the basement, combing through books trying to find some spell to help out a hunter and Sam was out getting lunch.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Were you worried about me, Dean –o?" Even though his eyes were barely open and he looked weak, he still managed to get on Dean's nerves.

Gabriel crawled over to the couch and placed a hand on Castiel's heart. His concerned frown relaxed and he let out a breath.

"Is he okay?" Dean asked.

"He's healing, should be awake in a couple of hours," Gabriel replied, turning around and leaning his head into his brother's side, sighing deeply.

"What'd you do to him?"

"I stuck my hands inside of him and fixed his Grace," Gabriel replied bluntly, his eyes closing.

"Took you a pretty long time, you were out cold when you finished."

"You try putting together a human by connecting his molecules."

Dean's lower lip jutted out in amazement when he realized what Gabriel did. "You couldn't take breaks with that, huh?"

"Course you could."

Dean frowned. "Then why didn't you? When we walked past the doorway and saw you working you looked like a moving corpse." The door opened and Sam walked in, dumping Styrofoam containers onto the kitchen table, but neither of them heard him come in, or at least acknowledged him.

Gabriel opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Dean. "Tell me, Dean-o, if Sam was hurt and almost dead and you could fix him, would you take any breaks?"

Dean bit his lip. "No, I wouldn't."

"Same thing. Cassie is my little brother, and just like I took care of him when he was a fledgling, I'm taking care of him now."

"You took care of him when he was little?"

"Course I did. He stopped at nothing to find out what I was doing, talking about, who I talked with… biggest pain in the ass I ever had," Gabriel said fondly.

"Know what you mean. Christ, Sammy had a habit of falling down everywhere when he started walking and he'd never stop bawling the place down."

"You think that's bad? Try having a baby brother who just learned how to fly and every time you turned your back the poor idiot had gotten himself stuck in a tree." Dean laughed loudly.

Sam, who stood in the kitchen, smiled slightly to himself, not even knowing he fell down that often when he was a toddler.

"Little brothers… pain in the ass but I'd give my life in a heartbeat for Sammy." Dean sighed heavily. "If anything happened to him-"

"You'd never forgive yourself," Gabriel finished. There was a short silence as the two older brothers thought about their younger sibling.

"I remember once Cassie cried for hours. All the angels in the Garrison were looking for him; all you could hear were these sniffles. Eventually we found him trapped in a cloud."

Dean burst out laughing and Gabriel chuckled at the memory.

"If I remember correctly, you crashed into the Gates of Heaven when Lucifer was teaching you how to fly and there's still a dent in the bars." Castiel opened one eye to look at Gabriel.

"Cas!" Dean cried, getting up to go over to him. Gabriel turned his head to look at his brother.

"At least I didn't fall out of Heaven."

Castiel raised his eyebrows. "Yes, you did. If it wasn't for Lucifer grabbing you by your robe at the last second, you'd have fallen straight to earth."

"How do you know that anyway?"

"Michael told me."

Gabriel cursed his older brother under his breath. Dean looked at Castiel in confusion. "How long have you been awake?" he asked.

"Since Sam got in," Gabriel replied, turning his gaze to the doorway. Sam walked in, smiling sheepishly.

Gabriel and Dean looked at each other. "What'd I tell you? Little brothers always get in your business."

Dean and Sam went to eat and Gabriel stayed with his little brother. "Come on, we need to get your wings sorted out."

Castiel stood up, his limbs stiff from lying in the same position for so long, and sat between his brother's legs, spreading his wings out. They couldn't be fixed with Grace; this was something that had to be done manually. All his brothers and sisters would do it in Heaven; groom each other's wings.

Gabriel began to work the oil from Castiel's glands into the feathers, removing the blood and began the calming task of arranging his feathers. Sam and Dean returned, raising an eyebrow when they saw Gabriel seemingly playing with air.

A blush formed on Castiel's face and he squirmed, feeling uncomfortable even though Sam and Dean couldn't see his wings. They were very private and only his brothers and sisters saw each other's wings.

Gabriel didn't bother explaining anything to Sam and Dean; let them puzzle it out for a while.

One day later, Gabriel decided Castiel was good and he pulled his younger brother into a hug. "Take care baby brother," he said, before popping a Snickers bar into Castiel's mouth and disappearing.

Castiel took out the bar and sighed at the empty room. "I hate you, Gabriel," he said fondly.


	9. Sam and Cas

Sam and Cas

"Maybe we should call Cas for this one," Dean said, looking hopelessly as the mass of papers that sat in front of him. Sam felt his heart leap then quickly plummet at the mention of the angel.

He loved Castiel, more than anything, with the exception of Dean, but it was obvious who the angel had feelings for. Dean and that 'profound bond' to Cas made Sam's blood boil. Of course, he could never hate his brother, but he hated that Castiel always seemed to prefer Dean.

If Sam called, Cas took five minutes to get there, and he was usually cranky. When Dean called, Cas was there before he even finished his prayer.

Sam tried to get the angel's attention, but it never worked. Even when he gave up shotgun for Castiel, all he got was a 'Thank you, Sam' and then later got yelled at by Dean who didn't like change and wanted his little brother next to him.

Maybe it was because of the demon blood? He was off that, of course, but maybe that's why Cas didn't like him. And Dean was, after all, the 'righteous man'.

Sam was pretty sure if he disappeared and Cas came to visit them, he wouldn't question Sam's absence but if Castiel visited him and Dean wasn't there, he would ask over and over and over for him. Sam always loved seeing Castiel, that ridiculous trenchcoat and hair that was never combed, but Castiel never paid him half of the attention Dean got.

"Sam? Sam! You listenin man?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, go on," he said, a bit distracted.

"You alright?" Dean asked, watching his brother.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Go ahead and call Cas, I'll just go get lunch," he said, grabbing his jacket and Dean's keys before he even had a chance to respond.

Sam let out a breath in the car and started the engine, driving to the nearest diner. He walked in and took a seat, ordering some fries which he could take as long as he wanted eating. The waitress set a plate in front of him and he stuffed one in his mouth, even though he wasn't hungry.

"Hello Sam."

"Jesus Christ!" Sam's knee slammed into the underside of the table and he groaned in pain before looking up at the angel who sat opposite him. "Cas, you can't just appear like that in a public place, it's not normal. What are you doing here?" Sam dutifully ignored the happy thrill that went through him.

"I had to see you."

Sam felt his hopes rise and he felt a flush on his cheeks. "R-really?"

"Yes. I believe you are more familiar with a university campus than Dean is. In the university nearby there's a library which I believe has what we're looking for, and I need you to help me get it so I can take it back to Dean."

Sam's heart fell and felt heat rise in his cheeks. He slammed a palm on the table, threw a few crumpled bills next to the plate and got up roughly, banging his knee again. He shoved open the door and began walking, feeling himself begin to get flustered. His eyes watered and he cursed himself for ever thinking Cas would come to see him just for him.

He walked down the pavement, turning down a deserted alley so he could kick around empty boxes and find some way to let his anger out. He combed back his hair, kicking a can all the way to the end of the alley.

"You are upset."

Sam sighed, giving a humourless laugh. "Yeah Cas, is it obvious?" he asked.

"Why are you angry?" the angel questioned, tilting his head in confusion.

Sam wanted to say 'nothing' and just walk off, but his lips were moving before he even knew what he was saying. "Why do you care? All you care about is dean," he said bitterly.

Castiel frowned. "What does this have to do with Dean?"

Sam laughed loudly, a shudder entering his voice as he tried to keep from bursting into full out tears. "What does this have to do with Dean? Everything, Cas, everything! He's all you care about, Dean, Dean, Dean.

"No time for Sam! You don't even give a shit about me and you'd probably ignore me one hundred percent if I wasn't your favourite hunter's brother!

"Hey Cas, I brought you some angel stuff. Oh yeah, thanks Sam, hey Dean… Cas I sold my soul to get you back. Oh what, that's great, Dean, could you… Cas I went out and found God for you because you wanted him. Oh, did you say something Sam, sorry I was too busy paying attention to Dean!"

Sam had been pacing the whole time, kicking things and letting the tears run freely. He turned to face the angel who saw clearly why Sam was upset.

"I mean, yeah, you and Dean have this whole bond or whatever and you clearly prefer him over me but God, what I would do for just a fraction of the attention you give Dean! And he doesn't even think anything of it!"

Sam turned to face Castiel, his nose red and his hair messy and tears streaming down his face.

"Why?" he asked, his voice broken. "Why can't you just like me too?"

Castiel was suddenly in front of Sam, his hands on his cheeks and pulling him from his sagging position, almost in pain at seeing the younger man's sorrow. "Sam, I do like you. I love you. It is not an angel's place to love a human, you are considered above us, and I thought by distancing myself from you I could stop my feelings. I thought since Dean was my charge, perhaps I could turn the feelings of affection I had towards you into protection for Dean."

Sam gasped for air, leaning into Castiel's warm hands as held his face.

"Look at me, look at me Sam Winchester! I love you, I have since I heard of you. I cannot bear to see you suffer like this. I love you, I always have, and I always will."

Sam almost melted when Castiel pressed his hot lips against his mouth. Castiel kept him up. Letting Sam cling onto him, not seeming affected by it at all. Sam moved his mouth against Castiel's, taking what he'd yearned for for so long.

He tugged his fingers into Castiel's soft hair, letting him ravage his tongue against Sam's. Castiel pulled away, it seemed like seconds for Sam but it was minutes. He sat down on an old, wooden crate, pulling Sam down with him and tugged him.

The younger Winchester weakly fell into Castiel's embrace as he held him against his chest. "Don't you ever think, for a second, that I prefer someone over you. You are mine, Sam Winchester, and I am yours."

Sam reveled in his words, whimpering softly. Castiel held Sam tighter and ran his fingers through his hair, cooing sweet things into his ear until Sam had managed to get a hold of himself. During this time, Sam thought about what happened and he sat up, looking nervous.

"Look, Cas, I get if you don't like me as much as Dean, you didn't have to do all of that if you didn't mean it, I'm sorry for putting you in a position like that," he said, looking down at his hands.

Castiel kissed him again, a hot, fiery, passionate kiss that made Sam turn into jelly. "I am only taking what I wanted for years," he whispered hoarsely, before straddling Sam and kissing him again, pushing his tongue into Sam's mouth.

Sam pushed himself against Castiel's warm body, trying to gain control of the situation, but he was too much of a mushy, lovesick human to anything but wrap his arms around Castiel's waist and rub his hands over his back. Castiel rocked his hips into Sam and he groaned into Cas' mouth.

Castiel massaged Sam's tongue with his and Sam felt a heat forming between them, which was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Castiel moved to Sam's neck, placing hot, wet kisses there. Sam gasped, clutching Cas' hair and pushing him into his neck as he tilted his head, begging for more.

Castiel knew Sam was a mess around him and he pulled away, knowing if he didn't stop they would never finish. Sam whimpered at the loss of contact and heat, especially in the cold weather. Castiel hushed him gently, giving him a short kiss.

"We must go, Sam, Dean will be worried about you."

"Can't we – can't we just stay a bit longer," Sam pleaded, drawing his eyebrows together slightly and giving Cas his puppy eyes; it worked on Dean so why not Cas?

Castiel was vulnerable to Sam's kicked puppy expression and he leaned in, giving the younger Winchester a few more minutes of their earlier heated make out session before pulling away and climbing off of Sam.

"Come Sam, we have to leave."

Sam sighed, getting up and following Castiel to the Impala. He started the engine before remembering the research. "Hey Cas, what about the university?"

Castiel flushed. "I'm afraid I know all about the topic, I just wanted to see you," he confessed. Sam didn't hide his happy grin and he roared out of the parking lot, stopping a few blocks away from the motel.

"Sam, what are you –" Castiel was pulled down by the hunter and his lips captured in a kiss before he could finish his question.

Not that he minded.


	10. King Sam and Consort Dean

The King of Hell was angry.

Sam stormed into his chamber, screaming at his servants. The chambers of the large room shook with his rage. In his anger, he killed two demons, roaring at the others who weren't out of the room yet. He grabbed the last, digging his fingers into the smoke that the demon was made of and hissed in his face. "Bring me my consort."

The demon nodded, words falling over each other. Sam released, him and the servant hurried out to find the King's consort. Sam stamped up to his Throne, taking a seat in the red and black chair. The whole place was deadly silent; the demons outside dared not do anything that might anger their King even more.

The large, heavy iron door opened and through it walked Dean. Sam's eyes roved over him, drinking him in greedily. He wore what he always wore, a pair of black pants, no shirt, and a black, spiked, leather collar around his neck.

Dean was happy to see his King; he missed Sam after he left for two weeks to do some work on Earth. Sam smiled, a dark, seductive smile, and Dean almost fell to pieces right there.

"Come here, pet," Sam said, his voice low. Dean stumbled in his hurry to get to his King. He stopped in front of him, hands clasped behind his back and his head bowed in respect for his King.

"Look at me." Dean's head lifted eagerly and Sam smiled to himself as Dean's eyes ran here and there, watching him with adoration.

"I am upset, pet. Take care of me, will you?" Sam asked, his voice low and husky and he let his hand brush the bulge in his white pants that formed just by looking at Dean.

Dean felt his heart jump. "Yes, Master." He got on his knees between Sam's open legs and undid the button and pulled the zip down. He tugged Sam's cock out of his boxers and rubbed the head slowly, knowing all the things that drove his King crazy.

Sam hummed in pleasure, sighing into his Throne. "That's it, pet…"

Dean rubbed him for a short while before wrapping his lips around the head and letting his tongue do what his fingers had been earlier. Sam groaned softly, moving his hand to run through Dean's hair, stroking it. Dean sucked the head, then moved his head lower, until his Master's cock was all the way in his mouth.

He stayed at the base before pulling back up, letting his tongue lick the underside of his shaft. He bobbed his head up and down, licking the slit and letting out a soft moan around Sam's cock, which drove his Master crazy, when he tasted his salty pre-cum. Sam moved his hand to the back of Dean's head, running his fingers through his short hair and pushing him down lower, not caring if Dean gagged. Dean didn't, of course, he was used to Sam forcing him down, and he loved it.

Dean sucked Sam off for a while before he felt his Master's cock twitch and he moved his hand to caress his smooth balls. Sam looked down affectionately at Dean as he felt his eager hands touch him, wanting to swallow his release. Sam let himself go, spurting out his hot liquid down Dean's eager throat. Dean swallowed hungrily, milking as much as he could from Sam's cock and lapping up what he couldn't get fast enough from Sam's cock.

Sam moaned, sagging into his Throne. "Good boy…" Dean put his cock back into his boxers and buttoned and zipped back up his pants before pulling away, a bit reluctantly, and standing in front of his King, hands clasped behind his back and head bowed, just like before.

Sam looked at Dean, the picture of submission, and smirked when he saw the hard outline of his cock pressed against his pants. Dean's breathing was uneven and he shifted a bit, his erection needing friction. What with demon blood running in his veins, Sam felt his cock getting hard again watching Dean.

He undid his pants, pulling out his cock and stroked himself. He saw Dean's head raise just a fraction, watching his Master touch himself. Sam saw Dean's eyebrows crease before he bent his head again. "What's wrong, pet?"

Dean's head snapped up. "Nothing," he said hurriedly, turning his eyes away to stare at the wall. Sam saw hurt in Dean's eyes and frowned, confused.

"Come up here pet, come sit on Master's lap," he said, patting his thigh. Dean went over to him, clambering on his lap. Sam wrapped his arms around him, letting his fingers rub his side and nuzzled his neck. "Why are you upset?"

Dean tried to stop himself, but he couldn't help blurting out, "Didn't I do a good enough job, Master? Are you disappointed in me? Was I so unhelpful that you had to relieve yourself by your own work?" Dean's gaze fell to Sam's cock.

Almost immediately after he said it, Dean's head dropped and he shook a little. "I'm – I'm sorry Master, I didn't mean to…"

"Shh, pet," Sam cooed into his ear, pulling Dean to lay his head against his shoulder. Sam kissed his head, stroking his hair. "You did a marvelous job, I'm proud of you," he said soothingly. "But after seeing you standing there looking so beautiful with that erection," Sam let his hand lightly brush Dean's crotch and felt him jump, "I couldn't control myself."

Sam pulled up Dean's head to press a kiss to his lips. Dean leaned into it hungrily, letting his Master suck his bottom lip and push his tongue into Dean's mouth. "That's what you are after all, aren't you?" Sam murmured, pulling away to kiss Dean's neck. "My beautiful boy."

Dean moaned softly, tilting his head to let his Master kiss more of him. Sam put his hand over Dean's crotch as he sucked his neck and began to grind his palm into it. Dean's breathing got deeper and he made little needy sounds, pressing into Sam's hand.

"My lovely little pet," he crooned, unbuttoning Dean's pants and tugging down the zipper as best as he could with one hand, pushing his hand down Dean's pants and palming him through his boxers. Dean squirmed against his Master, pressing up to him.

"My perfect consort," Sam murmured, biting a spot on Dean's neck and sucking the skin between his teeth. He pulled his hand out slightly to inch into Dean's boxers, stroking Dean's hard length. Dean whimpered, trying to rub against Sam's hands. Sam pulled away and snapped his fingers, the pants and boxers disappearing off of Dean.

He lifted him up, turning him around so his back was against Sam's chest. "Ride me, pet," he whispered. "I want to feel your tight little hole around me, moving up and down my cock, pressing against that pleasure spot inside of you…"

Dean didn't need any more encouragement; he hurried to lift himself above his Master's cock, bracing himself on the handles of the Throne, lowering himself on Sam's hard cock. Sam leaned back his head, sighing in pleasure as he felt Dean's tight walls surround his cock. Dean began to move up and down, crying out in pleasure.

Sam gripped his hips, moving with him, lifting his hips to slam into Dean. He reached around, taking Dean's cock into his hand and jerking it, making Dean scream. Sam continued to jerk himself into Dean and soon he felt Dean's hot liquid squirt out, some landing on his hand. He put his hand to his mouth, licking off Dean's cum and letting his tongue savour the taste.

He thrusted a few more times into Dean before emptying into Dean a second time. Dean sighed, exhausted, and Sam lifted Dean off of his cock, turning him so Sam could cuddle him, kissing his cheek, murmuring in his ear. Dean lifted his chin towards Sam, eyes closed.

Sam smiled and kissed his waiting lips. Dean curled up against Sam after having gotten his kiss and his breathing evened out. Sam held Dean against him, letting him rest, before it was time for his meetings with various demons. He lifted his pet as gently as he could off of his lap and placed him on the Throne on the right side of him, which was slightly smaller than his Throne, but magnificent, nonetheless, after all, it was for his pet.

Dean moved just a bit but stayed sleeping. Sam pressed a kiss to his precious pet's forehead before putting the clothes back on him and sitting back down. "Send the first in!" he called. The door opened and the servant motioned for the first demon to come forward.

They had to come for their meeting and wait out there, whether it be hours or minutes, until their King called them in, which he did eventually. They lined the back of the room and each stepped forward when the other was done, the demon who finished speaking would go back and wait in his position until they were all dismissed as one.

Sam listened to various reports, commanded them on what to do and addressed those who'd done such evil things they needed personal torture from the King himself.

Hours passed as Sam addressed, resolved, listened to and received advice from his servants when Dean stirred. Sam raised his hand before the next demon began his speech and turned to Dean. He sat up, yawning, and looked at the demons standing in the room, who all bowed to him; the King's consort was to be treated with just as much respect as the King himself.

Dean acknowledged them, then turned to Sam, wanting to be held. Sam held out his arm and let his pet crawl into his lap, holding him and stroking his hair, then turned back to the demon who was to speak and nodded once.

The King of the Crossroads gave him the usual number of souls they'd gained for the year and number of demons they'd lost in the deal. Just he was walking back to his place, Sam noticed the caretaker of the hellhounds.

"Do you see something that interests you, Charles?" he asked, his tone light and conversational. All the demons in the room tensed and they stood up straighter; nothing good ever came when their King talked to them like that.

Charles knew it too and he swallowed. "No, your majesty," he said, unable to keep the shudder out of his voice. Sam watched his Adam's apple bob nervously; some demons kept their meatsuits on even in Hell, and his eyes narrowed.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he said, his tone airy, "but it seemed like you were looking at my consort," he finished, petting Dean's head.

Charles' eyes widened in fear he shook his head. "N-no, I wasn't, I –"

"Almost as if you wanted him for your own." Sam's voice hardened and he turned his dark gaze to Charles, who shook. It was one of the major rules in Hell, no one, no one, except for the King, was allowed to covet Dean.

"I – I wasn't, your majesty, I d-don't –"

"Come forward," Sam commanded, stroking Dean's hair, who looked at the demon in curiousity.

Charles stepped forward reluctantly, looking up at his King.

"How dare you covet my pet? What makes you think that he would ever be with you? What makes you think he would even consider you when he has me, you filth?" Sam caressed Dean's hair and kissed his cheek.

"And I don't share. He is mine, and he doesn't want you. Do you, my pet?" Dean shook his head, leaning into Sam's touch, barely aware of what was going on, not that he even cared, all he cared about was his Master touching him.

"See? He doesn't want you," Sam said, lifting Dean's chin and pressing a kiss to his lips. Dean arched up, wanting more of his Master. Sam let Dean take all that he wanted, letting his hands skim over Dean's chiseled chest and muscled back, before pulling away. "Now now, pet, Master is working," he scolded lightly. Dean rested his head against Sam's shoulder and he lifted his head to let Dean nuzzle him.

He turned back to the demon and saw jealousy in his features before it was wiped off his face in a millisecond when he saw Sam looking at him. But it was too late, the King noticed and he snapped his fingers, killing the demon. He looked up to the rest of demons, who stood waiting patiently, some flinching at Charles' sudden death.

Sam finished the talks with them, sent his advisor to find a new caretaker for the hellhounds, then it was just him and Dean. Dean whimpered in his lap, pawing at Sam's chest. His Master looked down at him and Dean bumped his nose against Sam's jawline.

"What is it you want, pet?" Sam asked, looking fondly at him.

"Kiss me, Master," Dean said, his voice soft. Sam smiled at him and lifted Dean to straddle him, pulling him down to kiss him.

"Anything for you, pet."


	11. Dean and Sam

"Dean," Sam whispered, his voice low. Dean knew what it meant. He got up and went over to Sam where he lay on the bed, pulling off his shirt and Sam followed suit until they were naked in front of each other.

Dean sucked Sam's cock and he breathed heavily, trying to keep his mouth shut. Dean didn't like it when Sam moaned.

More than anything, Sam wished his brother would love him the way Sam loved him. Dean hated this, he hated having to suck Sam's he hated letting Sam suck him, he hated having to fuck him. He only did it because Sam wanted it. Dean wanted his little brother to be happy, and even though he despised it, he did it for Sammy.

Dean licked his brother's cock, he kissed the insides of his thigh, he rimmed Sam's tight hole before lubing himself up and sliding in him. Sam groaned loudly and Dean stopped, glaring down at him.

"What'd I tell you about that?" he snapped.

Sam shut his mouth and bit his lip, trying not to feel hurt at his brother's harsh tone. Dean pushed into him and began to pound into his brother. Sam panted, the only way he could stop moaning and Dean grunted above him.

Dean lifted Sam off the bed, walking him over to push him against the wall, fucking him there. Sam wrapped his legs around Dean as he thrusted into him until Sam released over Dean's chest. Dean came inside of Sam just a second after Sam and as soon as he did, he pulled away, leaving Sam against the wall and he practically ran into the bathroom, the shower starting soon after. That night, as they lay in bed, Sam felt tears form as he heard Dean's whimpers.

"I don't know what to do," Dean whispered, not really to himself, not really praying, just needing to say it. "I love him, and I want him to be happy, but I hate this, I hate this so much."

Sam bit his lip and cried into his pillow, hating himself for wanting Dean and he fell asleep, listening to his brother's sobs.


	12. Dean and Sam -Smut

"Sammy…" Dean's husky voice trailed off as he weakly tried to push away his brother. This was wrong. He knew it.

But Sam didn't care. He wanted his older brother. Sam pushed Dean harder against the Impala, kissing and sucking on his neck.

"Sam, please," Dean begged softly; he didn't want to shove away his little brother, he needed Sam to pull away because he couldn't.

"You want this, Dean, I know you do," Sam whispered, moving lower and tugging down his neckline so he could place a kiss on his neck.

"No, Sam, please…"

Sam ignored his brother's protests and knelt down in front of him, undoing his jeans and pulling out his cock, running his fingers over the smooth skin.

"Sam, stop…" Sam took his cock into his mouth, letting his tongue run over his slit. Dean shuddered, placing a hand on Sam's head and feebly trying to push him off. Sam closed his eyes as he sucked; he loved sucking Dean's cock.

They'd done it a few times before, Dean always trying to stop him, but Sam couldn't help himself. He knew he was a slut for his brother's cock, and he tried to get it as often as he could.

He moved his mouth lower down Dean's shaft, taking it all in, feeling the head hit against the back of his throat. He brought up a hand to caress Dean's balls, stroking them and massaging them.

"Sam, we can't…" Sam continued bobbing his head up and down Dean's cock until pulling away. He pushed Dean down by his shoulders until he landed on the gravel. Sam took off his own jeans and boxers, stroking himself.

He got on top of Dean, who gave him pleading eyes to stop, but Sam looked away, knowing if he looked too long he'd give him. He grabbed his pants and groped for the pockets, feeling for a bottle of lube. He quickly slicked Dean's cock, then eased himself onto it, groaning loudly.

He held Dean's shoulders, riding him, moaning in pleasure. Dean's held fell back against the Impala and he bit his lip, eyes closed. He let Sam ride him until he came, Sam shuddering when his brother's hot release filled him. Sam exploded onto Dean's stomach just moments after. He picked up his jeans and used it to wipe Dean's shirt clean as best as he could before lifting himself off.

Dean immediately scrambled up, shoving his cock back in his pants and buttoning it up in a flash. Sam looked up at Dean and he felt guilt.

"Dean, I – "

"C'mon Sammy, have to hit the road," he said gruffly, not looking at Sam. Dean got into the car and Sam pulled on his clothes, getting into the passenger's seat.

Dean stared straight ahead and didn't say anything, while Sam tried to find some way to apologize. He'd taken advantage of Dean, again, he knew that, and he felt immensely guilty for it. He took advantage of the fact Dean would never deny his little brother anything, and he started again.

"Dean, I'm sorry, I – "

"Next case is in Missouri. Look through the victims and see if there's anything similar."

Sam sighed and picked up the newspaper, beginning to read the articles.


	13. Sam and ConsortDean

Dean gritted his teeth when he felt Sam's fingers in his hair.

He felt the urge to sink his teeth into Sam's cock when he made Dean suck him off.

He hated when Sam would call him his little pet, when Sam would pet him and kiss him.

He despised Sam whenever he took Dean's cock into his mouth and brought him to a climax.

Dean wanted to murder the demons who looked at him like he was a piece of meat.

He wanted to punch Sam for killing them if they ever touched him, saying he was 'my consort'.

Dean wanted to tear off the leather collar, the tight black leather pants and the sleeveless leather jacket Sam made him wear.

He wanted to run away when a demon came to fetch him because the King wanted him in his chamber.

He loathed the way Sam would hold him on his lap while talking with his servants.

Dean wanted to curse him when he petted him and pushed his fingers in Dean's mouth and make him suck them.

He wanted to curl up and die every time Sam would croon to him and take care of him like he was helpless.

He hated many, many things about Sam and what he was now.

But perhaps what he hated most of all was the fact that he would always lean in to his Master's touch.


	14. King Sam and Consort Dean II

Sam sighed wearily, wiping a hand over his face as he continued writing out instructions. He was working on several new punishments, and it involved a lot of writing of how they were to be conducted. "What do you think of this, Fizz?" Sam asked, addressing his advisor whom he nicknamed after getting tired of Fiskar.

He read out another torture sequence and Fizz nodded. "But perhaps, my King, it would be better to have the intestines burnt inside of the person then pulled out, instead of simply tearing them out?"

"Hmm…" Sam toyed with his pen before nodding. "Yes, good idea Fizz." He began to write it over. Sam didn't understand how even in Hell with demons who didn't care for anything and anyone somehow stuck to the tradition of having the leader manually write these things out. Lucifer himself did it, apparently. But Sam realized that unless the King himself wrote it, no one would follow it.

He finished another long scroll of parchment before taking the next one, sighing again. "Forgive me, my King, but you look weary. Maybe you should take a break," his advisor suggested.

Sam nodded, setting the scroll back down. "Thank you, Fizz, you're dismissed." Sam shoved the scrolls he already filled with his rather scratchy script into a box before snapping his fingers and making the box disappear. He stood up from his desk, going out of the study and walking down the hall to the bedrooms.

"Dean?" he called, tapping lightly on his bedroom door. "Where are you, my pet?"

He pushed open the door but Dean's room was empty. Sam looked around, feeling lonely. "Dean?" he called, but he got no answer. He figured he was out watching the demons torture, or playing with the hellhounds.

He walked down the hall in search of something to do when he heard a small whimper. He frowned, turning to face a dark, empty hallway. "Hello?" he called, taking a step towards it, wondering if he imagined it.

After he called out, the whimpers increased, sounding desperate. Sam strode into the hallway quickly, snapping his fingers and lighting the torches on the wall. He gasped in horror when he saw what was on the ground.

Dean looked up at him weakly, bruised and bloody, eyes half open. There were awful cuts on him and his leg was broken. A trail of blood lay behind him, as though he'd dragged himself forward until he couldn't go on anymore. He was naked; his pants had been torn off. He whimpered pitifully, trying to reach his Master.

Sam sank to his knees, in shock at seeing Dean hurt and held him, cradling him to his chest. "Dean, baby boy, what happened? Who did this to you?" he asked, feeling anger grow inside of him.

Dean was too weak to say anything and he pawed at his Master's chest. "Shh, it's alright pet, it's alright. This will hurt a bit, but it'll stop soon alright? Shh…" Sam moved his hands over Dean's leg, starting to heal him, when Dean howled in pain and desperately tugged away from Sam's hand.

Sam looked down with sorrow at Dean's features, which were twisted with pain, and realized it hurt too much for Sam to heal him. "Okay, it's alright baby boy, shh, I have you now, we'll just have to take care of your injuries, it's alright…"

Sam kept up a string of soothing words as he gently lifted Dean in his arms and carried him back to his own room, laying him gently on the bed. He got a basin of warm water and washed Dean's cuts as gently as he could. He leaned forward, wiping Dean's face, clearing the dirt from it.

Dean's green eyes stared at Sam and they filled with tears. Sam let out a cry and leaned over, combing back Dean's hair and kissing his cheek gently.

"It's alright pet, don't worry, Master is going to take care of you, alright? I have you, it's okay now, you're safe…"

Sam cleaned Dean before shouting for some demons to fix his leg. After they finished their work, Dean pawed at his cast unhappily. "I know pet, but it'll get better soon." Sam was about to ask again who did that to him, but Dean yawned, blinking his eyes quickly.

"Go to sleep, rest a bit, you'll feel better," Sam told him, leaning over to press a kiss to Dean's forehead. He snapped his fingers, extinguishing the lights, and made to get off the bed when Dean's hand grabbed his.

"Stay, Master," Dean whispered, head bowed, afraid Sam would punish him for being too forward.

Sam smiled down at him and crawled back in the bed, pulling Dean to him and wrapping the covers around them both. "Of course." Dean cuddled into Sam's chest, nuzzling his neck and Sam stroked Dean's hair, humming him a lullaby. Dean's eyes drifted shut and Sam kissed Dean's temple, falling asleep as well.

A week passed, Dean hadn't spoken much, but he was getting better. He flinched sometimes when Sam touched him, didn't like Sam holding him too tightly to him and pushed away from it, but Sam figured it was because of what happened and gave Dean his space.

Soon, Dean's leg felt better enough for Sam to heal it fully and they got rid of the cast. Dean sat on the bed, eating the food Sam had made for him, until Sam sat next to him, pulling him close and burying his face in Dean's soft hair. Dean leaned his head into his Master's touch and purred softly.

Sam took Dean's plate and fork from him, feeding him the rest, then held Dean, letting his fingers brush Dean's skin. "Baby boy," he murmured.

"Yes, Master?"

Sam pulled away to look into Dean's eyes. "Who did that to you?" he asked, gently, but firmly, needing an answer.

Fear filled Dean's green eyes and he pushed himself into Sam, whimpering, trying to press as close to Sam as he could. Sam wrapped his arms tightly around his pet and soothed him, seeing that Dean was afraid. He felt rage burning inside of him, that someone, some filth, would dare make Dean feel that way.

"Fizz," Dean whispered.

Sam's eyes widened. He'd found Dean after he was with Fizz. And he was working on the reports for a good three hours, not to mention, Dean dragged himself for a while before finally losing the strength.

"Pet," Sam said slowly, trying to contain himself. "How long were you there for?"

There was a small pause before Dean answered. Sam knew Dean would have counted the seconds; he used to be a hunter. It's exactly what Sam would have done, no matter how unimportant it seemed.

"Six hours," he said softly.

Sam's eyes blazed. He was about to leave then and there, then he remembered when he found Dean. Suddenly, all the times Dean had flinched away from Sam and the times he pushed himself out of Sam's embrace made sense. "Pet… did he, did he rape you?" Sam choked out, remembering Dean's pants had been gone.

He felt Dean's body tense and his breathing quickened.

"Baby boy, tell me, did he rape you?"

The room was silent then Sam heard the barely audible, "Yes."

He nearly collapsed all of Hell.

"Pet, I'll be back," he said, setting Dean back on his bed, kissing him, then storming out of the room before he had a chance to protest.

It was an hour until Sam returned. Dean burrowed himself into his lap. "Did you kill him?"

Sam decided to leave out the fact that he tortured him in front of everyone, made an example of him, and left something to remind them of what would happen to them if anyone dared to do it.

"Yes pet, I killed him. No one would ever hurt you like that again, I'm here now."

Dean hummed and nuzzled Sam's leg, letting his nose brush Sam's crotch and the King smiled.

"Now, how about I get rid of that filth's touch on you?" he murmured, placing a hand on Dean's crotch and fondling his balls. Dean arched his hips into his Master's touch and Sam slipped his hand into Dean's jeans.


	15. Sam and Dean - Brotherly Love

Sam and Dean – Brotherly Love

If it bleeds you can kill it.

If it bleeds you can kill it.

If it bleeds you can kill it.

Sam chanted it over and over, whether he said it in his head or out loud was unknown to him. He was a grown man but he found himself shaking and terrified like a little boy all over again. And, just like when he was little, he was still counting on his big brother. He threw a punch at the makeup covered face in front of him and aimed a kick at the one behind. Dean's words rang through his head and he grabbed his gun.

He fired at the laughing clown in front of him twice… and nothing happened. At least, not what he expected. Glitter showered from where the bullet hole should be The clown went silent, looked down at his chest, realized nothing was wrong and began laughing mockingly at Sam. The younger Winchester's blood ran cold.

_It didn't bleed._

Sam felt true fear building in his stomach. Dean hadn't told him what to do if that didn't work! The clown knocked the gun from his hand the two of them began beating the shit out of him, it was only when he was flung onto a car did he manage to regain some sort of control. Grabbing a piece of iron, he swung at the brightly clothed terrors.

One of them fell back and Sam smacked the other across the face before dropping the iron and beginning to run. He checked behind him hurriedly every now and then, before coming face to face in a dead end. He turned around to run somewhere else, but the two clowns stood in front of him.

One knocked him to his knees and they stood staring down at him, hideous grins on their faces. Sam felt true horror and he began to shake. He curled himself up into a ball, tears leaking from his eyes, unable to control his emotions. He was going to die.

The clowns laughed and ran at him and he didn't know if he screamed or not, but suddenly, something shimmery sprinkled over him and he found himself covered in glitter, the two clowns gone. But something seemed to have snapped inside of him and he lay curled up on the ground, unable to move, crying softly.

Dean ran from the damp room after managing to get the crazy man under control, getting rid of the killer children amusements. He ran outside, looking around. "Sammy?" he called. He searched until seeing a rusty door swinging open.

Running inside, he called out again or his little brother. He heard soft whimpers and went silent, listening for the sound again.

"Dean…" a soft voice whispered, broken and hurt. Sammy! He ran, panicking, trying to find him; he hadn't Sam like that since he was little. He stopped, looking down a dark dead end, making out the outline of something huddled on the floor.

"Sammy?" he called, softer now. An answering sniff reached his ears and he ran to his brother, dropping to his knees.

"Dean… there were two of them… and they kept grinning and laughing… they didn't bleed Dean, they didn't bleed!" Sam shook, remembering their horrible faces. Dean pulled Sam to him and wrapped his arms around his shaking little brother.

"Shh, Sammy, it's okay, they're gone now, you're safe…" he crooned softly, stroking Sam's too-long hair.

Sam whimpered into Dean's shirt, sniffing and Dean felt a few warm tears soak through the thin black undershirt.

"They disappeared… into glitter. You did that, didn't you Dean?"

"Of course I did Sammy, you know your big brother would always handle it. I'll always keep you safe, no matter what it is, I'll take care of it. Shh…"

Dean held Sam close to him, rocking him and stroking him, his heart pounding at seeing Sam like this. He could only remember the last time Sam ran to Dean for comfort and a hug and that was when he was little and had a nightmare from one of Dad's hunts and he'd come crawling into Dean's bed.

Sam's soft sobs slowly reduced until the only thing that made a sound was Dean's soft, soothing cooing into his little brother's ear. Sam's fingers were turning white from the clutch he had on his brother's shirt and he felt his breathing even out as Dean crooned in his ear, relaxing into the soft stroke of the pads of Dean's fingers on his scalp.

Dean held Sam until he felt Sam's breathing gradually become slower and he maneuvered his brother as gently as possible before he could fall asleep like that. Taking most of his weight on himself, he walked him outside and set him in the passenger seat, hating to rouse him from his doze so they could get inside when they arrived at the motel. Sam collapsed on the bed and Dean took off his shoes and jacket, covering him with the blanket before getting into bed himself.

Halfway through the night, he was woken up by his little brother crawling into his bed and he wrapped him up in his arms, despite the fact their limbs hung off the edges and the bed groaned alarmingly at the added weight, hugging Sam to his chest and his little brother's heart rate from the nightmare he had slowly evened out and they fell asleep together.


	16. Destiel - Kinky Cas

Destiel

Don't let anyone fool you.

Angels are the kinkiest pieces of shit you would ever come across.

Castiel wanted sex 24/7. And the things he demanded made even Dean's eyes go wide. Of course, he was more than happy to comply, but where Castiel came up with these things were beyond him.

Once he'd had Dean blow him in the grocery. Another time he had Dean dress up in lace panties. One time Dean had to take the role of a housewife, complete with dress and apron. Once he even had Dean slide his dick between the base of his wings, which, Dean wasn't going to lie, was the hottest thing he'd ever done.

Not to mention, Castiel was a complete slut. He woke up every morning with Cas' hot mouth around his cock. Then he'd get in the shower and Cas would join him. Sometimes, before breakfast, they'd have sex on the counter. After Dean got home from whatever he had to do that day, Castiel would meet him in the garage and fuck him on the Impala, or inside if Dean didn't get out fast enough for Castiel's liking.

Then they'd go inside and shower, complete with sex, then make dinner. While Dean ate Castiel was on his knees under the table, sucking him off. Then they'd cuddle watching TV, but Castiel always made sure Dean's hand was on his crotch and Dean would fondle his balls through his pants while Cas kissed his neck.

Then they'd get into bed and of course, Castiel would fuck the life out of him, before finally falling asleep.

Repeat.

And Dean loved it. He never thought of himself as a bottom, he was always in control, but Castiel soon disciplined him. He was Castiel's bitch and they both knew it. He would never refuse his angel anything. And when Castiel walked in saying he wanted to have sex on the hood of the Impala, Dean didn't say no.

But when Castiel decided they were doing it with the Impala parked outside for the entire neighbourhood, Dean felt a little… apprehensive.

"Please Dean," Castiel said, his eyes opening wide. Dean felt it was ridiculous that Castiel could look so innocent when he was the dirtiest fucker on the block. Dean already knew he would say yes, not because of Castiel's puppy dog face (Sam was the master of that and Dean was willing to bet his life that there was no one better), but because he would do anything for Cas.

So when his bare back was pressed against the cold metal hood of the Impala and Castiel's moans penetrated the air while he pounded his cock into Dean's hole, he blamed Cas.

Dean tried to keep quiet, he didn't particularly want the neighbours to see them, if any were home, but at the same time it was thrilling knowing that anyone could walk out.

He and Castiel had a house in your classic, apple pie neighbourhood, and everything moved like clockwork. Every week day, the stupid minivans would go driving out at two in the afternoon to pick up their kids and return at four after spending some time getting ice cream.

Dean struggled to get a sane thought through his head as he squinted at the sun, as far as he could tell it was half three. He bit his lip, silencing his moans, but Castiel wasn't having any of it.

A slap came across his cheek and Castiel glared down at him. "What did I say about holding back?"

Dean didn't answer, but he let out a groan into the air (which he didn't have to try too hard for, if he was being completely honest). Castiel rewarded him with wrapping a hand around Dean's cock, beginning to stroke it.

"Good slut… that's what you are, aren't you Dean? You're a little slut for me, a slut for my cock in your tight little hole aren't you?"

Dean was pretty sure it went both ways; Castiel would probably explode if his cock wasn't in Dean's asshole, but he didn't bother to point it out, it might earn him another slap (not that he minded, to tell the truth).

"I'm your bitch Cas," he grunted out, feeling his cock twitch in Castiel's hold. "I'm your little cockslut."

Castiel grabbed the bottle of lube and poured some over Dean's cock, slicking it up in his warm hand and beginning to stroke Dean with the intention of bringing him to a climax instead of the stupid teasing thing he was doing earlier which had Dean ready to cry if it meant Cas would give more.

After they both released, Castiel yanked Dean up, capturing his lips in a rough kiss. Dean wrapped his legs around Castiel's waist, smiling as Cas shoved his tongue into his mouth harshly. He heard the rumble of one of those stupid minivans, but he didn't care (even though Dean was completely naked and Castiel was fully clothed, with his pants unbuttoned).

Oh yeah, angels were kinky as shit.

And Dean fucking loved it.


	17. Sam and Dean - WaterSports

Wincest

"Dude, seriously, that's the third stop you've speeded past. I've got to pee, man!"

Dean laughed loudly watching Sam wriggle on the seat as he struggled to contain himself.

"Maybe I just like watching you squirm, Sammy," Dean replied, giving Sam a wicked smile before turning his eyes back on the road.

"You're a dick, you know that?"

"Yeah, maybe that's why you like to ride me every night." Sam turned bright red and spluttered, turning to stare out the window as Dean snickered at him.

After two hours, Sam began to whimper softly. At least, what he thought was softly. Dean felt himself getting a hard on; it wasn't his fault! Sam had no idea how hot it sounded; those soft little sounds escaping from his brother made Dean want to bend him over the Impala and pound him into oblivion.

As another gas station stop came into view, Sam began to panic, thinking Dean would drive straight past; he couldn't hold it much longer, and he began to beg Dean to stop.

"Dean please, please man, I need to, please, God Dean…"

Dean bit his lip at how needy Sam sounded and let him continue for a bit longer, even speeding up a bit just to hear his little brother's pleads, besides the fact he was going to stop anyway. The Impala hadn't even come to a full stop before the door was shoved open and Sam stumbled out, trying to hold his pee and move to the bathroom at the same time.

Dean stepped out of the car, rolling his eyes at Sam's ridiculous waddle over to the bathrooms and went in the store, picking up a six pack; the ride to Indiana would be long. He grabbed some bags of chips which would hopefully hold them out until they could get to Indiana to get some food. As he walked out he met Sam returning from the bathroom.

"Surprised you didn't wet yourself on the way there," he said, waggling his eyebrows. Sam gave him Bitchface #27.

"Fuck off."

Dean laughed loudly, dumping the bags on the seat between them and starting the engine. Sam climbed in and they roared out.

Just half hour into the drive, Dean already busted into the six pack, taking a long swig from his can. Sam looked at him.

"You couldn't even wait a full hour?"

"Shut up, I'm thirsty," he snapped.

"You could try water."

"And run to the bathroom every two minutes like you do?" Dean grinned wickedly at his brother and Sam rolled his eyes, but he did open a can, just to wet his mouth.

Not even fifteen minutes later, he was opening his second can.

"Dude, you serious? There's only six and we're not even close to halfway there." Dean shot his brother a look, letting him know if he had more than Dean he was getting punched in the face.

"We'll just stop somewhere else and resupply," he replied, propping up Dad's journal in front of him, eyebrows furrowing as he read in the dim light, continuing to drink.

They finally arrived in Indiana and walked into their motel room. Surprisingly, Sam didn't have to make Dean pull at the side of the road, and he sat on the tapping away on his laptop. Dean crumpled his burger wrapper and tossed it into the bin at the other side of the room, stretching his legs in front of him and admiring Sam.

The little wrinkle between his eyebrows and the concentrated stare he had on the screen was adorable. His hair fell forward and he bit his pink lip as he worked. Dean ran his tongue over his teeth and called out.

"Sammy, get over here, you've been researching God knows what since we started the drive, we're not even on a hunt. Come here," he said, his voice hoarse.

Sam looked at the way his brother's head was tilted and small smile that tugged on the side of his lips. He set his laptop down and came over to Dean, who promptly placed his hands on Sam's hips and pulled him to sit on his lap. Sam shifted, straddling Dean and let him place soft kisses against his neck.

Dean moved up to Sam's jaw before taking his brother's lips, tasting the coffee Sam drank earlier, savouring the taste. Sam bent down, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck tightly, beginning to kiss him roughly. Dean's fingers dug into Sam's side, smirking.

"Still can't get over the fact that my little brother likes it rough."

"You do too."

"Whatever."

Dean bit viciously into Sam's neck, leaving what most people would call painful, but for Sam it was pleasurable, love bites. Sam pressed himself as close as he could to Dean, and it still felt like he was too far away. They made out furiously until Dean grinded up into Sam's hips and he whimpered softly, pulling away.

"Mm, what's wrong, come here," Dean whispered, voice thick and eyes half open.

"Dean, I got to pee," Sam said, putting his hands on Dean's chest and moving to climb off his brother's lap.

Dean grabbed Sam's waist, pulling him back and pushing his mouth back to Sam's. "You can hold it," he murmured. Sam weakly gave in, groaning softly as Dean massaged his tongue using his own.

Ten minutes later, Sam pulled away again. "Dean, I really got to go man." Dean's hands made their way to Sam's ass, grabbing the round, pert cheeks and squeezing the flesh gently. Sam couldn't help it when he felt his back arch and he pushed back against Dean's hands.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean was on the floor with Sam on top of him and he kissed his older brother's chest before pulling away yet again. "Dean," he said sternly, lifting his head.

"C'mon man, you've held it for longer before," he said, rolling them over so he could unbutton Sam's shirt easier, pulling his nipples. Sam moaned, letting the back of his head hit the floor.

After too long, Sam lay on top of Dean again and he felt as though his cock would burst. "Dean," he said urgently, starting to panic and wonder if he would even be able to make it to the bathroom fast enough. Dean mumbled something from his neck where he was nibbling Sam's skin.

"What?"

"Go on me."

Sam almost choked at the thought of peeing on his brother, despite him wanting it. "I can't, you…"

"Sam, just do it." Sam's face burned up with embarrassment and he pulled himself off of Dean, knowing he wouldn't be able to look him in the eye if he ever did it. Dean let him go, a slightly amused expression as Sam did what Dean called his 'pee waddle' to the bathroom.

A week later, Sam was grinding into Dean while his brother groaned Sam's name, pushing up from the leather of the backseat. Dean moaned hungrily when Sam pulled away, looking at him with lust. Sam squirmed a bit and Dean realized the look on his face.

"Just do it," Dean whispered hoarsely, pulling Sam down to meet his lips.

"Dean, I can't," Sam mumbled, kissing back his brother, feeling shame burn in him and he bent to kiss Dean's collarbone in an attempt to hide his red face.

"It's alright Sammy," he whispered, feeling excitement growing in his stomach.

"Dean, I really got to go," Sam whimpered, starting to pull away but Dean's arms clamped around him like a vice.

"Do it," Dean commanded. "There isn't anywhere outside anyway, clear savannahs for miles."

"Doesn't matter, I'll just pee right there. I'll ruin your clothes," Sam choked out, trying to keep his breath slow and even as panic built up in his stomach at the thought of peeing on Dean.

"Don't care man, just go." Dean returned to Sam's lips, sliding his tongue into Sam's mouth.

Sam kissed him breathlessly but he could feel himself about to burst and he couldn't ever live with himself if he had an accident on his _brother_. Sam began whimpering and squirming, but Dean's arms didn't loosen one bit.

"Dean, Dean I'm… I'm gonna…"

Sam's words fumbled out and he tried desperately to hold himself back, but urine was spilling from his cock and he was powerless to stop the flow. Dean groaned loudly, feeling his brother's warm urine soak through Sam's jeans, then onto his. Sam's arms almost gave out from holding himself over Dean and he collapsed onto Dean's chest, the feeling of finally releasing after so long of holding it in too good.

Dean rubbed his arms around Sam's back, pressing his hips up into Sam's soaked jeans, his becoming almost the same. The pee began soaking through his jeans and his eyes rolled to the back as he felt Sam's urine on his bare skin. A bitter smell filled the air and Sam let out a shuddering gasp as the final drops squeezed themselves from his cock.

He sat up, looking down at his and Dean's crotches, jeans drenched with his pee. His face burned and he began stuttering. "Dean, I'm so sorry, I'll clean it up, I swear, I'm so sorry, I tried but I couldn't-"

Sam's words died down as his brother sat up, kissing him good and long. "Shh, Sammy, it's fine, I loved it," Dean whispered. "We're going to have to try that again sometime."

"You're not… you're not mad at me?" Sam breathed, looking at Dean's face, terrified of seeing disgust or scorn.

"Of course not baby boy, that was hot as fuck. You can relieve yourself on me anytime you want," Dean told him softly, pressing another kiss to Sam's lips.

"Now, how about we get you cleaned up, there's a spare pair of jeans in the trunk," Dean said, fingers moving to Sam's belt buckle.

"But – but we don't have any towels or cloths big enough," Sam said, confused. Dean looked up at him wickedly, tongue licking his lips.

"Who said I'd be using a cloth?"


	18. Sabriel

For dirtylittletrenchcoat

Sabriel – Fluff

Sam let out a loud breath, thinking it over. He set some more papers on the small motel table, shuffling them around and fixed the history on the computer to show he'd been on several sites researching at different times.

There were even empty coffee cups in the trash. There was no way he would see through.

He sighed again, trying to see anything that would contradict his story. Dean was at the bar, and he'd probably be spending the night with some random girl. Everything was set.

Sam hung his head before speaking. "Gabriel? I uh… I need your help, can you come please?"

Sam looked up and around him hesitantly, waiting. There was no sound of fluttering wings, nothing. The younger Winchester felt his hopes shatter; he'd spent so long preparing and he didn't even show up.

"Why the long face?"

Sam started when he looked up to see Gabriel leaning against the wall, a smirk on his face as he munched his chocolate bar. Sam stared, at a loss for words at the sight of the archangel. Gabriel raised an eyebrow, looking at the flustered Winchester.

"Hi," he finally managed, trying to get his breathing under control.

Gabriel waited, eyebrow still raised. When Sam said nothing else, he responded. "Hi," he said, dragging out the word. "What did you need help with?"

"Uh, help?" Sam asked uncertainly, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows as he struggled to clear his head and thing straight.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, wondering if he was on drugs. "You said you needed help, for one of the boys who helped save the world, your memory isn't so good, huh?"

At the quirk Sam managed to tighten the screws holding him together a bit. "Right, um, here." He lumbered over to the table, taking a chair and opening his laptop. "Dean and I are hunting something and we don't know what it is," he said, finally beginning to follow his carefully constructed plan.

"Why didn't you call Cas?" Gabriel questioned.

Sam felt his stomach clench; he hadn't thought of that. "Cas said to call you," he said, finally. "He said he was busy."

"Where's Dean?"

"Off drinking, he said he worked too hard and he needed a break." The lie rolled easily off his tongue; it was what Dean used as an excuse.

There was silence for a while until Gabriel spoke. "Well, I can't help if you don't tell me anything."

Sam started; Gabriel's voice came from right behind him. "There've been killings," he said, a little too quickly. "All of them had this tattoo…" Sam pulled up a picture of a circle within a circle within a circle, with a square in the middle. Sam started to speak again when Gabriel's arm reached over his shoulder and pushed the laptop shut.

"What are you…"

"C'mon Sam."

Sam felt his breathing hitch when he felt Gabriel's breath against his ear. "W-What?" he choked out.

"We both know this isn't a hunt, that tattoo is some random image, these papers don't mean anything, Cas didn't say jack. And I know you didn't call me here because you need my help."

Sam almost forgot how to breathe. "How do you-"

"How do I know?" Gabriel chuckled. "I'm an angel Sammy, how wouldn't I know?"

Sam felt a sob escape his throat; he thought he'd been so clever, but Gabriel saw right through it. "Gabe, I'm sorry, I didn't-" Tears leaked from his eyes, and he couldn't figure out exactly why he was crying.

"Hey, hey, hey, shh, it's alright." Sam sniffled and Gabriel pulled the chair and turned it easily to face him, despite the fact Sam was sitting in it. He leaned over, wiping away Sam's tears.

"I just… I just wanted to see you, Gabriel, I - I lo-"

Gabriel shushed him. "I know, I know."

Sam sniffed and looked up in confusion. "You know?"

Gabriel gave him a smug smile. "Angel here." Sam didn't have time to say much else, because Gabriel's lips were on his.

They were soft and sweet from the chocolate and moved gently against his. Gabriel was slow with him, as if giving him time to pull away. Which he did.

"But…" Sam frowned in confusion. "How can you…"

Gabriel laughed softly. "There's only one reason I actually show up whenever one of you boys call me, and that's because I get to see you. What? You seriously think I cared about the destruction of the world?"

Sam smiled at that and Gabriel spoke again. "So, you gonna kiss me back, or keep asking questions?"

Sam blushed and leaned forward, letting Gabriel kiss him again. The angel straddled Sam's hips and wrapped his arms tightly around Sam's neck, ravaging the younger Winchester's mouth. Sam groaned softly, feeling Gabriel grind slightly into him and he pressed his crotch into the friction.

Gabriel sucked Sam's lower lip into his mouth, swiping his tongue over it and nibbling it gently. Sam wrapped his arms around Gabriel, running his hands up and down his back, pulling Gabriel's chest flush against his. Gabriel breathed in the smell of leather and cologne as he moved to Sam's neck, placing light kisses there.

"Hey Sammy, got dinner, stupid bartender kicked me out…"

Gabriel and Sam jumped and Gabriel looked over to see Dean standing at the doorway, frozen. "Dean!" Sam cried, straightening his back and his arms flying off of Gabriel to grip the sides of his chair. "Uhh…"

Gabriel cleared his throat, turning around on Sam's lap. "Hello, Dean-o. You want to spend the night in another room?"

Dean gaped, his mouth opening and shutting, no words coming out.

"I think you want to spend the night in another room." Gabriel pushed his hand out and Dean was sent flying back. With a flick of his wrist the door slammed and Gabriel turned back to Sam, capturing his lips.

"You, you shouldn't have," Sam began, trying to get coherent words come out of his mouth, interrupted by Gabriel's kisses and distracted by the fact he was grinding on him again. "He could have been hurt, pushing him back like that," he managed to get out; but his concern for his brother was slowly being taken over by lust.

"Don't you worry, he had a nice patch of bushes to fall into. In fact, all you should be worrying about is that pretty little mouth of yours and the things it's gonna be doing tonight…"

Outside, Dean cursed Gabriel and shook his head, trying to get the thought of his little brother having sex out of his head.

"Friggin angels…"


	19. Sam and Abused Dean

Sam and Dean

Sam only found out when Dean passed out after a hunt in which things got a lot more out of control than they'd thought.

When Dean went unconscious, his wounds had soaked his shirt in blood, which was already drenched in sweat and dirt, as well as his pants. Sam moved Dean into the tub, dropping his body right in as gently as he could. He got rid of Dean's clothes and filled the tub, beginning to clean Dean with a washcloth.

For the first time, Sam really looked at the scars on Dean's back.

And he realized Dean lied about every single one of them.

When he was a little boy, he believed Dean; he'd had time to look at the marks. And of course he believed Dean, he was six and his big brother was the world to him. He never knew what they were supposed to look like anyway.

Sam knew all of the scars on Dean, same way Dean knew all of the scars on Sam, mainly because they were the ones to see it happen and/or patch it up.

So when Sam actually got a good look at what Dean told him was a scratch from a werewolf, for the first time in over twenty years he called bullshit. Sam's eyebrows furrowed as his eyes moved to another scar, what was supposed to have been from a Wendigo.

And there, right below his shoulder blade, was the faintest impression of a belt buckle.

Sam felt sick. He ran his eyes over Dean's back, seeing lies written there, carved into his skin. When he pulled Dean to have his back against the tub, he saw the lines covering his stomach, his chest. He could point out which ones were from monsters, hell, he could even say the dates it happened and describe in detail the scene. But there were a lot more. A lot more he took Dean's word for.

After he cleaned Dean and dressed him, laying him in his bed, Sam went to get a drink, tears falling. He'd had a lot of time to think, in fact, he probably knew the truth all these years, but he never paid much attention to it, not because he didn't want to think that, but because he trusted Dean. But now that he put some more thought into them, he realized that lot more things made sense than it did back then.

Dad hit Dean. Multiple times, with belts, his hands, and other objects Sam didn't want to think about. He also didn't want to think about how hard the lashes were for them to leave marks on Dean's skin to this day. No wonder Dean was always so fiercely loyal to Dad.

Yeah, Dean always obeyed him and when he told Sam about the Shtriga almost claiming him the one time Dean disobeyed, he figured that was the reason Dean always followed Dad's orders. But he was stupid to think it was just that.

Dean, his big brother, strong and stoic, turned into a passive, well trained dog in front of Dad. Dean was _afraid_ of him. Sam remembered those night Dad would be in a drunken rage and Dean would hurry Sam into their bedroom and make him lock the door, only to be opened for him, before going out to face Dad.

He remembered how he would hear slaps, but he thought it was things falling. He remembered how Dean would come back in, Dad knocked out on the couch and hold Sam while he cried into Dean's shirt, asking why Dad was always so mad. And Dean would always say it was because of the demon that killed Mom.

And 'Not to worry Sammy, I'll take care of you'. And he would tuck Sam into bed. And when he asked for Dean to stay with him, his big brother would say he just had to use the bathroom and he'd be right back. And after Dean would ease into the bed slowly, which Sam always assumed was because Dean didn't want to wake him even though he never fell asleep, and hug Sam carefully.

Sam cried all over again, hating the fact that Dean got open injuries from Dad and he never said a word and let Sam think everything was okay. How stupid was he to think a simple Shtriga was the cause of all this. Nothing but fear could have caused the undying loyalty Dean had.

When Sam finally calmed down, he stood up; going to check on Dean, then everything hit him like a train. He remembered that time he ran away on Dean's watch.

He never once thought of how Dad would blame Dean. When he got back, Dean looked ragged and half dead, which Sam assumed was from wondering where he was. He was covered in scars and Sam had blamed himself, saying he was sorry when he hugged Dean and he remembered how tense his brother had gotten and asked him why he would say that.

Sam had said it was because he wasn't there to help him on the hunt and Dean had fallen prey to the monster. Dean went with what Sam said and told him it was fine, it wasn't his fault. Dean never let Sam blame himself for anything. Sam had no idea what Dean went through those two weeks.

Tears poured down his face and he sobbed loudly, his voice echoing in the silent bunker. He wondered why, why didn't Dad hit him too? And then Sam knew.

Dean.

Dean never let Dad lay a finger on him. Sam knew Dean would protect him at all costs; it's what he's been told since Sam was born. No matter how drunk Dad got, Dean always pushed Sam somewhere away from Dad and took all the blows for him.

Dean never let a single lash land on Sam.

He never let Sam know either. He knew his little brother would blame himself. Dean protected him no matter what, and that included keeping him safe from his own father. Sam remembered when he left for Stanford, how he didn't even give Dean a proper goodbye, how broken his brother had looked when he found out from his Dad's shouting match that Sam was leaving; he didn't even get to tell him to his face.

Dean sheltered him from Dad's abusive nature so well Sam only realized it now. Dean raised him and made sure he had the best childhood he could possibly have, being a hunter's son. He gave up his own childhood, he _destroyed_ it for him, and all Sam had done was walk out on him.

Sam cried out and dropped to his knees, dropping his glass, screaming and he cried into the wooden floor, twisting in pain.

Whether Dean woke up from that, or just happened to become unconscious at that point, Sam didn't know. But he felt Dean's grip on him, tugging him up and shaking him, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"Dean… Dean I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please…" Sam sobbed, his heart shattering at how ungrateful he'd been, and how Dean never once blamed him, while most people would feel even the slightest resentment, despite it being unjust and them knowing it.

"Sammy, what? What did you do?" Dean's rough voice was on the verge of panic, trying to figure out if Sam had sold his soul or something.

"I… I know Dean. I saw the, the scars, I know what Dad did, I'm sorry, I've been an awful brother, I'm so, so, sorry." Sam's broken voice came out wheezing as his nose became stuffy from all the crying he did and was doing and he struggled to get some air, sobs wracking his throat.

"Oh Sammy…" Sam felt himself being crushed into Dean's chest and he cried out, unable to deal with the guilt. He gasped his brother's name, begging for forgiveness, cursing himself, cursing Dean for never telling him.

"Why?" he choked out, his voice thick shaking. "Why didn't you let Dad hit me too? Why?!" Sam yelled.

Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders, staring at him. "Are you nuts? You think I'd let him touch you? Sammy, you're my little brother and the only thing that's allowed to hit you is me."

"But you were abused Dean," Sam gasped. "And I didn't even know. I walked out on you. How could you even treat me so good? How could you still love me?"

"C'mere." Sam was grabbed in another tight hug and Dean whispered fiercely into his ear.

"Don't you ever, ever! think that for even a moment I will stop loving you. You didn't know because I didn't want you to, and I still don't. I knew you'd blame yourself Sammy, because you're my stupid, annoying, pain in the neck little brother and I would rather die than see that happen.

"I was happy when you left for Stanford. Sad, I admit it, but what got me through you leaving is knowing that you didn't know or blame yourself for what Dad did, else you'd have never left. And that's what I wanted. I wanted you to live without hating yourself. Course I couldn't protect you from everything else in the world but I wanted to.

"Now you listen. This is not your fault. Dad was an obsessed, drunken bastard. And I am your older brother, next person to take care of you if he couldn't do it, and that's exactly what I did."

"Why didn't you leave?" Sam sniffed out, pressing his eyes into Dean's shirt to soak up the still flowing tears.

"Sammy…"

"Tell me Dean! Why?"

Dean sighed. "I was afraid if I left that would take out his anger on you because I wasn't there to stop him. And because I didn't want to leave you, Sam. Given the choice, I would stay with you forever and protect you from all the bad things in the world; it had to be you to walk away from me, Sammy."

"Dean… I'm sorry…" Sam whispered, his voice small.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. No matter what Sammy, you're my little brother and I will always love you. Don't you ever blame yourself for this. Now get up, this ground's hard as shit."

Sam felt a laugh bubble up from his throat and he let Dean carry him into the nearest bedroom, which was Dean's, saying there was no way he was lugging Sam's Sasquatch ass all the way to his room. Sam felt happy at hearing Dean able to sound so normal.

His brother set him down in his bed and Sam didn't complain when Dean took off his shoes and pulled up the blanket, tucking him in like he was a little boy.

"I love you, Dean," Sam said, not being able the last time he'd ever told Dean that; it often went unspoken.

"I love you too Sammy." Dean made sure the blanket covered Sam properly, kissed him on the forehead and walked outside, turning off the lights as he left and Sam cuddled down, allowing himself to slip into the routine they'd had when they were little.

Dean would give him his dinner, they'd watch some TV and Dean would always extend Sam's bedtime before tucking him in and kissing his forehead. While Sam drifted off, Dean put away the empty bottle of alcohol and cleaned up the smashed glass that lay on the floor, checking on Sam one last time before going to sleep in his brother's bed.


	20. The End

_The Last Will and Testament of Dean Winchester_

_If you're reading this, it's because I am really and truly dead, not coming back. I know it's a shitty piece of paper that's not even whole, but since when has legal shit meant anything to us._

_No doubt the person reading this is my brother and Sam… I'm sorry man. I'm sorry I took you away from Jess, I'm sorry I brought you back in this life, and I'm sorry I wasn't a better brother to you. I should have found some way to get you a better childhood._

_And for Cas… I'm glad you were the one to drag me outta Hell, cause even though all you wear is that stupid trenchcoat and that dumb as shit backwards tie, you were good man. And there's something else you should know, if I haven't told you before I died. Pretty sure you know what it is, pretty sure Sam's gonna make that stupid I-Knew-It smirk when he's reading this, and pretty sure I don't need to say it._

_Sammy, I wish I had more to leave for you. What I'd give to be able to leave behind a house or something for you Sam, a way to get into a college, a guarantee for a good job, I don't know. I wish I had an account with a million dollars in it that you could take and buy whatever mansion in some bitch ass neighborhood, but I don't. _

_The Impala's yours, you can put whatever you want in it but if you change her, like paint her red or something I swear I will come back and haunt your ass. Do me a favour and leave the things we did to it, alright? You know what they are, you put some of them._

_The guns are yours, if you decide to keep hunting without me. Do what you want in the future, apple pie life, go back to school, hunt, it's your choice man. And as long as you're happy… well, that's all I ever wanted, really. _

_Cas, I'm afraid I don't have anything that you'd use for me to give you. You can have one of the guns if you like, ask Sam to give you one or two. And take care of Sam for me, alright? He's gonna pull a bitchface, but he's the most precious thing I have and God knows he'll get himself into some pile of shit._

_We've had some good times Sammy, and even though I wish I could have left you to be normal at Stanford, I'm ashamed to say that I would do the same thing over again. I hope you can forgive me for that. _

_The world mightn't know what we've done, me and you, and they probably put their money in their front pockets when they see us if we're not in a suit, and even though we've saved their bitch asses, I don't mind. You know, you and Cas, and you're the only two that matter._

_Well, that's it then. I don't know if I died saving the world again, or from something stupid, like a damn vampire, but remember me, alright? _

_I don't have much to give you, little brother, but I'm giving you all I have._

_All I'm leaving behind is a car that's seen more damage and blood than anything, guns that killed evil sons of bitches, credit cards with money that could add up to buy you a hot dog and a drink if you're lucky and they don't even belong to me._

_But you know, it's not so bad._

_Dean Winchester_

It was as Sam slowly pined away that he read these words, and he cried for so long he couldn't remember a time there wasn't tears running down his cheeks. He looked at his brother who lay in front of him while he was on the ground, leaning against the Impala.

Dean had pressed it into his palm as he choked on his blood; there was war in the world, angels, demons, everything, and Dean and Sam fought, it was when Sam got a crucial blow that Dean dragged him away, getting stabbed in the process before Sam could fire at the thing.

He slammed his head against the Impala, not even feeling the pain in his side as his blood seeped out. "You were the best brother anyone could have, Dean," he sobbed to his brother's dead body. He then pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his own pocket. But before he could unfold it, he was shot, and he fell, the paper still in his hand.

It was his own will, and there was barely anything in his possession he could leave for Dean, hell, the most valuable thing he had on there was his laptop. He'd left Dad's journal for Cas, since Dean had given it to him and he already knew all of this stuff.

He dropped the paper next to Dean's will and he dragged himself painfully over to him. He was glad that he didn't have to go through a longer life without Dean. His head landed on his brother's chest and he squeezed Dean's already stiff hand as he choked on his last breath.

It was like that Castiel found the Winchester brothers, the two boys who changed history. He read the wills and for the first time he found some strange, salty, water-like substance leaking from his eyes, and they didn't seem to stop.

Castiel held the boys to him and he mourned them, the only two humans who ever gave him a personal reason to love humanity. He cremated them and watched their bodies light the night. He gave them a headstone, right next to their mother's and he knelt in front of them, weeping softly.

He looked at the headstone and ran his fingers over the engraved words getting into the Impala and driving off.

In Loving Memory Of

Sam and Dean Winchester

College and High School Dropouts, Demon Killers Extraordinaire.


End file.
